Overwatch: Talon
by TheYellowLantern
Summary: A collection of One-Shots starring Widowmaker: the tragic assassin and Reaper: the wraith with a vengeance to fulfil, as well as Sombra: the ambitious hacker and Doomfist: the warlord with a purpose. Their adventures and interactions can range from funny, to sincere, to...erotic. Who knows what the agents of Talon could get into?
1. First Meetings

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 **Identification** : Widowmaker

 **Real Name** : Amelie Lacroix

 **Nationality** : French

 **Age** : 33

[Accessing higher level classified details, please reconfirm indentification]

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[Identification confirmed]

 **Biography** : Widowmaker, originally known as Amelie Lacroix, was the wife of Gerard Lacroix: an Overwatch commander and high priority target for Talon due to his actions against Talon operations. After previous unsuccessful attempts to terminate Lacroix, high command advised to look into his wife and seek a weakness to exploit. Amelie was kidnapped and subjected to long periods of neural reconditioning, before allowing her to be sent back to him seemingly unharmed.

Unaware of her being a sleeper agent, Amelie completed her task when she killed Gerard in his sleep two weeks later. Upon returning to Talon, she was to be changed on a genetic scale to become the perfect assassin. After completion of the operations and further reconditioning, the name Widowmaker seemed appropriate given the nature of her first mission.

 **Extent Of Modifications:**

-Dulled senses of the brain that stimulate emotion, incomplete. Was successful in removing the subject's condition of arachnophobia. Due for more reconditioning

-Slowed heart rate, allows greater accuracy with a scoped weapon. Side affect of dying pigments and lack of oxygen in the cells, resulting in a blue colour of the skin. Further intensifying of this modification is likely to kill the subject, halt operation until further notice.

-Enhancement of heamoglobin, allows greater efficiency and unloading of oxygen in the blood to offset slowed heart rate. Further modification required to revert blue skin side effect.

-Nanomachine implants in the eye, for enhanced vision. Side effect of a slight yellow glow in the pupils.

-Tatoos on the back and right forearm of the subject, art relating to spiders. Subject preference and choice, indicating emotion of desire and the embracing of spiders despite previous fear of them. Further reconditioning to offset these emotions is required.

[Closing files]

"Interesting..."

* * *

The black, hooded figure on the rooftop of a building in a night sky was looking into the accomplice he would soon be working with. He didn't like it, he preferred to work alone...but if Talon beloved he needed backup on this next mission, it was wise of him to accept. He was a mercernary, one of the best...he did as he was told for the job. Mostly.

 _"And they're sending me one of their little pets, huh?"_ He thought, amused.

Whoever this Widowmaker was, she wasn't a mercenary like him. She was willingly a member of the terrorist organisation...or at least, as willing as you can get when you've been brainwashed.

He wasn't supposed to be looking into those files on her, of course...but he didn't care about that. He was one of Talon's favourite mercenaries, they could afford a little information for his services. Besides, they'll be happy enough when the next job ahead of him is completed.

 _"Infiltrating one of the most secure US military facilities and downloading critical and incriminating data is...chaotic"_

And chaos is something Talon are all about, and something Overwatch aren't. If it displeases Overwatch, it was good enough for Reaper. Ugh...how he wanted to tear them apart...for everything they did to him...for betraying him...

"First things first..." He muttered, in a shrouded and demonic voice. "Where is this bug?"

He turned around and found himself face-to-face with a blue woman, hanging upside down from a higher point by a grapplehook fired from her gauntlet and wrapped around her leg. Her eyes were concealed by a mask, which covered the upper half of her face, the visor of which was clearly modelled after a spider...sporting six red eyes on the sides and one larger at the center. Her face was completely unmoving and straight, with her very long and dark blue ponytail hanging from her head.

"Bonjour" She greeted, in a cold tone with seemed a normality for her.

"You must be the itsy bitsy spider who's been sent to help out" He said.

There was a pause.

"...yes" She confirmed.

She unhooked herself and skillfully landed on her feet, her grapplehook retreating back into her gauntlet. She touched the side of her visor, and it retracted. Two yellow eyes were revealed, which contrasted rather well with her blue skin.

Reaper thought that the extent of her modification would've made her appear as a living corpse, but she was somehow pleasantly...alive and healthy looking. Really the only big difference between her and anyone else is that she was blue.

Her suit looked rather silly, however. It was some sort of pink and purple spandex or whatever. Hardly suitable for combat, the most it could protect her from was the men struck awe by her appearance.

But she didn't seem like the sort who even gave her opponents the chance to shoot at her, anyways.

"You look like you've come straight out of a comic book" He pointed out.

Her face was still blank, she was certainly living up to this emotionless thing. Widow took a moment to inspect the hooded man in front of her. He was wearing a long, black coat and a mask that somewhat resembles...a cow's skull?

 _"A cow's skull"_ She settled on.

Along with that, he had many enormous shells strapped to him. She didn't need all those days of weapons training to know those were meant for a big, mean weapon. A shotgun, likely.

"As do you" She replied.

She didn't have anything more to say than that, and he found himself just looking at her awkwardly, expecting her to say something more.

"You know the job?" Reaper asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Yes" She told him, before walking past him and activating her visor as she looked out to the facility they would be infiltrating. "The US facility houses critical intelligence that Talon wants, so it is our job to retrieve it"

That was putting it simply.

"I will be providing assistance" She went on. "But it is imperative that we are not compromised. This is a very sensitive assignment...comprenez vous?"

He looked at her as he joined her at her side, slowly and with that blank mask of his.

"What?" He questioned...already finding it challenging to understand her through the French accent, she didn't need to start using actual French words.

"Do you understand?" She asked again.

The lady was getting straight to the point...he liked that. But, he couldn't get over the fact that this is...or was, the wife of one of his former Overwatch colleagues. How could he not want a little chat first?

"Of course" He said. "My abilities will make this an easy task"

The ability to become black mist and reform to physical shapes was very, very useful. And pulling shotguns out of seemingly nothing.

Widow however, was not so fortunate in that sense. She was genetically enhanced but not supernatural...everything she could do, was with the skills and tools she had at her disposal.

"That must be nice" She replied blankly, without any sort of sincerity nor sarcasm where it would be suitable. "But I am not so lucky"

He nodded. Admittedly, he was expecting someone with such a spider fetish and a name like Widow to at least have some superpowers. Maybe shooting webs out...or having superstrength.

"Yeah, they did a lot of things to you" He said, showing off his knowledge of her. "Mostly involving a syringe, correct?"

There was a pause.

"Yes" A simple reply left her mouth. "Talon birthed me"

Birthed...changed...maybe it didn't matter to her. But Reaper was curious.

"Suppose you're thankful to Amelie Lacroix for donating the body?" He wondered.

He saw the blank look on her face crack briefly, and her eyes widened for a moment. She didn't know how a mercenary knew such things about her...but she didn't question it. She couldn't show weakness...so she just pretended that she wasn't surprised...that she didn't care.

"A weak housewife that's better off dead" She said as she faced him, more sternly and more prominently...before turning back from him. "This is an irrelevant conversation, we must focus on the task at hand"

"Of course, Amelie" He passive-aggressively agreed, but failed to make her show some emotion a second time.

He shouldn't mock her, that wasn't fair...but it was fun, a little. Clearly, Widowmaker didn't consider herself to be the same person she once was.

 _"The reconditioning certainly worked, then"_ He thought.

He thought about mentioning Gerard as he knew the man back in his Overwatch days, but Widow probably didn't want to talk about her husband.

"I hate to delay further, but the night is still young" He began. "What's your opinion of the Overwatch?"

"They are an enemy of Talon" She told him. "And so, they are an enemy of mine"

It made him smile under his mask.

 _"Good girl"._

"I'm sure we'll get along just fine, then" He said.

* * *

Widowmaker took her weapon out, in assault rifle mode. She imagined much of her assistance was going to involve introducing skulls to bullets while her accomplice did the actual infiltrating. Not that she couldn't do the latter herself, Talon had transformed her from a simple wife to a merciless killer.

"Nice gun" Reaper complimented.

The weapon had a highly advanced design, and it was capable of using assault rifle mode and sniper rifle mode...both used depending on the situation. Clearly, it was heavily customised by the assassin for her own taste.

"The Widow's Kiss" She said as she caressed her weapon, admiring it with a small smile on her face...the second example of emotion he saw from her. "A spider needs its venom, and this is mine"

It was becoming more evident that Widow was not as emotionless as the data files led on.

"Naming one's weapon is an indication of emotion, of a feeling of belonging" Reaper pointed out. "I thought you didn't feel any of that"

Widow was beginning to wonder if this was truly an assignment, and not just some test set by Talon to see if her neural reconditioning worked to expectations. She got quite a few of those, and she learned to simply suppress all emotion if she wanted to avoid the operating table.

"Why do you question me so?" She asked, hiding her annoyance. "We here to complete an assignment, not for you to interrogate me"

The wraith shrugged.

"I knew your husband, but I had never met you" He told her. "I just find you an interesting person...take it as a compliment"

She hated it when someone mentioned Gerard, or anything relating to Amelie Lacroix.

"Okay" She said, not wanting to continue this discussion further...and Reaper decided to drop it, he didn't need to interrogate the person who was meant to be helping him. Even if he felt he didn't need the help.

 _"He talks too much"_ She thought.

And being social wasn't her strong suit. It wasn't Reaper's either, though.

"Well, I'm sure we've wasted enough time already" Reaper supposed. "I'm ready whenever you are"

Widowmaker extended her left arm and fired a grappling hook, ready to swing into action.

"Then let's get a move on, Cow-Face" She mocked him with a tiny smirk.

He looked at her, confused.

"What?"

"Just know that when we're done here, I'm going to look at all of your files" She warned him light-heartedly. "Clearly, I have a stalker"

He crossed his arms. She shouldn't flatter herself.

"There won't be anything on me" He warned her back, more seriously.

"We'll see"

She blew him a kiss before activating her visor and jumping off the rooftop, swinging away towards the facility they were about to invade. Reaper sighed and faded into a black mist, following her in the night sky.

 _"A curious character, I'm sure"_ He thought.


	2. A Break

"Merci"

"Hmm?" Mercy hummed as she was lined up next to Widowmaker.

"Uh no, I said merci" The French woman clarified.

"Oh" The healer was noticeably embarrassed at her mistake, realising that Widow was merely saying thanks in her native tounge.

Widowmaker carried a tray of pasta and a cup of coffee as she took her seat in the dining hall, where all the heroes were eating and conversing after a close victory against the enemy team, defending a payload on Numbani. Unless your name was Bastion or Zenyatta, in that case you'd were either feeding a bird or embracing tranquility.

"I've...almost...got you..." Soldier 76 grunted as he armwrestled McCree on the neighbouring table from Widow's. "Just a little...more..."

The aged supersoldier then brought the cowboy's arm down on the table with a hard slam, and McCree yelled out. Their spectators then all began making a ruckus.

A black mist surrounded the seat opposite to Widow, and then Reaper solidified on it, sitting in front of her. Widow and Reaper always sat together, as it was either that or awkwardly sit with the other heroes. They didn't get along with them too well, being the only agents of Talon.

"So, what did the Russian and Reinhardt make today?" He asked, putting on a sense of curiosity as he looked at her food.

Reaper didn't have to eat, but this was pretty much how he always started a conversation with Widow. She...at least appreciated the attempts. It was better than sitting silently, she supposed. Though silence never bothered her.

"Aside from boiled poulet?" Widow said as she took up a fork. "Just pasta...but it's okay, I don't mind pasta"

Reaper found an opening for conversation.

"Can you even have preferences?" The wraith asked, intrigued.

She looked at her tray, and then back him before shrugging. Her taste buds worked as normal, but she didn't develop positive or negative responses to certain tastes like she used to. She could eat anything, really. But...preferences? Well...she wasn't sure what to say to that. She...supposed she liked the texture of the pasta.

"I...don't know" She said honestly, beginning to simply play with her food. "I tend to just not think about things like that"

The only preference she really held, was choosing to shoot her targets from afar rather than letting things get messy up close. That was all she was taught to see the appeal of.

"Huh, I'm an undead wraith and even I have likes and dislikes" He muttered. "Do you ever feel...numb, in there?"

Reaper thought back to the days where Gerard would talk about some of the good times he had with his wife, Amelie. Although it was never a good idea to discuss Gerard with Widowmaker, he wondered if mentioning the things she did as her older self would spark something in the seemingly emotionless assassin.

 _"Ugh, I sound so soppy"_ Reaper thought, disgusted with himself. _"It's not your business"_

Besides, it was best not to go there, to mention Amelie Lacroix. It would only piss her off, assuming she could even feel anger. Reaper was not intent on finding out the answer to that. He was still too busy getting over the fact that Widowmaker was Gerard's wife, repurposed.

"You shouldn't bother asking me these things" Widow told her companion. "You won't get a straight answer, as even I don't know what to say"

"You're right, my apologies" He said.

She looked down and just simply took a sip from her coffee. Reaper always seemed to ask these sorts of questions.

"It's alright" She assured. "But still, you're awful nosy"

A small smile appeared on her. Sometimes Reaper wondered if her rare smiles were genuine, or if she was just forcing them on her blue face.

"I'm bored" He complained. "The most exciting thing in my life involves killing people, when's the next match starting?"

Her attention was grabbed, looking up at him.

"Hmm, yes" She agreed, but ignoring his question. "The moment of the kill is the most pleasant feeling one can achieve, it takes over all other feelings and it makes you determined to keep going, like a hunger that can never be sated..."

Reaper knew that would get her talking. Like him, Widowmaker appreciated the thrill of ending lives. It was what she was created for, and what she lives for.

 _"It's all she lives for"_ He thought, almost pitying her.

At least Reaper had a set goal, a thing to achieve. Widow killed...because it's all she knows, all she was programmed to ever know.

And that was almost sad.

"Emo table alert..." A British voice mocked them, quietly, having overheard their conversation on killing.

Tracer's annoying remark was enough for Widow to simply be sick of sitting in this dining hall...she didn't feel like eating, anyways. She wanted to be alone, like a hermit spider waiting for prey to enter its web. Being alone gave her plenty opportunity to reflect on whatever.

"I'm going to get some fresh air" She announced to Reaper as she stood up, and already walking off before he could even respond.

Reaper was left silently sitting at the table, until Junkrat and Roadhog waddled over to him, in need of help. Reaper personally despises the ridiculous duo.

"Oi, Reapah" The little man asked for his attention. "Where's the bloody milk?"

The wraith calmly turned his head to the explosive expert and his bloated friend.

"It's in the refrigerator" He answered, dramatically.

He then looked back to the route that Widowmaker had taken, before turning into black mist.

* * *

On the Numbani stairway, the one behind the control point, Widow was sat down and looking through her scope. She loved her weapon, The Widow Kiss. When she ended the life of an opponent in a single, swift strike...it brought her pleasure. Barely. She supposed that perhaps of all emotions she lost, she was given to ability to enjoy killing.

 _"Preferable to being a man's useless wife"_ She thought.

She was improved...perfected. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

Her moment of solitude was interrupted when black mist formed to her left. It seemed Reaper wasn't intent on leaving her alone.

"I wish to be alone" The assassin told the wraith.

"You're not gonna let that little Brit twerp get under your skin, are you?" Reaper asked as he formed into his physical state.

Widow almost felt insulted at Reaper's implication.

"She failed to save Mondatta from me, I'll always be the one to get the last laugh on her" Widow said. "Now what do you want? I have nothing to say"

Reaper showed her the mug of coffee she didn't finish.

"Making sure you finish your drink" He said humorously as he handed her the beverage.

Widow couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as she took the mug, and then a sip. Reaper may seem like a scary person on the outside, but he was like a teddy bear when around Widow. It made her wonder how he felt about her, because he was never this nice to anyone else except her.

Suppose fighting alongside someone for a period will do that. You learn to respect each other, no matter how different you may be.

 _"Fine, he can stay"_ She decided.

They sat together silently for a moment, before Widow spoke up.

"That is one of my favourite spots on Defence" She began, pointing at the balcony to the left of them. "Let's me cover three different entrances...assuming they don't all flood in at once"

Being a sniper was hard if your name wasn't Hanzo or Ana.

"That is until Genji comes up there, looking for an easy kill" Widow went on, curling her lips. "Gah, I hate that sword-swinging buffoon with a passion..."

Too many times has she made a perfect headshot on the cyborg ninja, just for him to deflect the shot back at her with his blade. And if he got close? There was no escape for her...she had to rely on her allies in that case, and she hated having to do that. Ultimately, she still preferred to work alone.

"I'll watch your behind, next time" Reaper promised.

Widow took another sip from her mug.

"I think enough people do that, already" She said as she rolled her eyes. "But thanks for the offer...I suppose I've come to trust you from all the times we've fought together"

She considered Reaper...a good friend. A bit edgy, but a good friend regardless.

"You know who I hate?" Reaper began. "Bastion"

Widow raised an eyebrow.

"That seau de boulons?" She questioned. "I just shoot him out of his reach"

"Of course you do, you're a sniper" Reaper reminded her. "But I use shotguns, and he rips me a new one if I don't get the jump on him...hm, maybe we should switch roles for a day"

Widow shook her head at the idea. A joke, clearly...but still a terrible idea.

"Uh...I don't quite feel like being a...bordseigneur...for any amount of time" She sighed, and then looked down at herself. "And you would look a bit funny in these clothes..."

It was Reaper's turn to shake his head.

"You shouldn't even be able to make jokes" Reaper muttered.

"I do a lot of things that'll blow your mind" Widow said with smug intentions, but with none of the smug tone. "But to be fair, we all do crazy things"

Despite being associated with so many people with such variation...Widow and Reaper still managed to make outcasts of themselves.

"We have a child in a mech, a Buddhist Omnic, a woman who warps time..." She listed off some of their colleagues. "...and yet, we manage to differentiate from them in a negative way"

She looked down at herself, and then at Reaper. What, aside from being related to Talon, made them so different? They were all freaks...at least she thought so, anyways. Were they just...freakier?

"Just look at us" She said, almost glumly. "...An undead wraith and a living corpse..."

There was a pause from Reaper, as he scanned Widowmaker. Living corpse?

"Living corpse...those aren't the words I'd use to describe you" He told her.

Widow looked up at him and smiled faintly. This time however, her smile was genuine.

"What words would you use, then?" She asked, curiously as she slightly moved her face closer to his mask, much to his discomfort.

Reaper realised his mistake. He stared at her for just a little too long, and how she'll have certain thoughts in her head.

"I...I-I...ughhhhhhhhhhhhh..." He struggled to speak basic words, and she enjoyed watching him squirm. "You're...a respected friend?"

She moved away from him and nodded, her smile still present.

"Of course" She agreed. "As are you"

Reaper hated himself now, because sitting with Widowmaker just got a lot more awkward for him.

"So...uh..." Reaper tried to make new conversation. "How...how's your day going?"

Widow noticed that her companion was uncomfortable, and was just trying to rid himself of the quiet between them.

"There's nothing wrong with silence between friends" She told him.

"Uh...yeah...right" He quickly agreed.

They sat silently, until Widowmaker finished her coffee. The next match was surely to start soon, and Reaper wondered if he and Widow were going to be working together on the same team. He noticed that a lot of teams preferred to have Hanzo or Ana over Widowmaker.

 _"We'll be on attack this time"_ He thought. _"She may very well have to sit this one out"_

Six heroes per team, that's how it worked.

* * *

Reaper stood idly by as his team checked their gear. Unlike them, he had nothing to check...all he needed were the infinite shotguns that were stored in his never-ending pockets.

"Mission begins in five minutes" The feminine voice of the announcer spoke to them.

He looked to his right to see Widowmaker walking up to him, holding a small rucksack to carry her stuff. As expected, she was not chosen for this team...instead, they got Hanzo...as they usually did. There seemed to be little reason to pick Widowmaker over Hanzo these days

"Well, looks like we part ways for now" She told him. "I'm needed elsewhere...Talon's orders"

Reaper raised an eyebrow behind his mask.

"Any idea why?" He asked.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it and just smiled. Could she share such information with a mercenary? Her Talon programming forbade her from doing so.

"It's classified" The assassin said humorously. "Anyways, I have a gift for you"

Reaper was interested, but then cautious.

"Uh...many of your gifts tend to involve a venom mine" He reminded her. "I mean, sure, it does barely any damage but..."

"No, here" She handed him a small picture. "Just for when you feel lonely, I suppose. I'm the only one you ever talk to, after all"

Reaper looked at the picture...it was of the woman herself, looking into the camera with a forced half-smile and her hand below her chin, resting her head on her elbow. Reaper was embarrassed she would even give him such a thing. What was she getting at?

 _"Oh God, she saw right through me"_ He realised.

When he looked back at the real Widow, she was just looking at him blankly.

"You're giving a picture of yourself to a man twice your age" He pointed out. "You shouldn't even be able to...feel the drive to do such a thing"

She shrugged. While she couldn't quite feel emotions herself, she still understood what they were like and how they felt. She used to be able to experience them...and she remembered. She...understood how Reaper felt. He would try to deny it, of course.

"Why must you question everything about me?" She said, slightly annoyed. "I'm just a woman, giving a picture to a man. Is that so hard to understand?"

"It's just unusual for you, that's all" He explained, not wanting to provoke her further. "It's...it's a nice picture"

He felt so...weird. He supposed this is what he got for indirectly complimenting her looks.

"What is this supposed to mean, Widow?" He asked, seriously, as he held up the photo.

"Whatever you want it to be" She told him. "I just thought you'd miss my presence during my absence, that's all. Maybe you can make good use of it on those lonely nights?"

"WHAT!?" He yelled.

Widow's eyes widened briefly at him exploding.

"Hush down...I am simply, as you Americans say, fucking with you" She said with an innocent smile.

He looked back at the picture after calming himself..admittedly, he liked it. But he felt so wrong for...accepting this.

"It's just...you are...WERE the wife of one of my old friends back in the day" He said. "I mean, I get you're a widow now...but-"

"I'm not Amelie Lacroix" Widow made clear. "Do not mistake me for that woman...all we share, is the same face"

The same face was all Reaper needed to see the line blur between Amelie and Widowmaker. The assassin was brainwashed and tortured to be born...she was the product of a syringe. She was not made from choice...everything she did now, was just due to whatever Talon did to her.

 _"They took a regular housewife, and made her into an emotionless killer"_ He thought. _"And now, this same killer is giving me a picture of herself"_

He didn't want her to think he loved her or anything...they were just friends, he was comfortable with just that. But it seemed Widow's inability to feel emotions was making it hard for her to understand that.

He supposed he couldn't blame her.

"Look...just do whatever you want with it, it doesn't have to mean anything" Widow said, before hearing the announcer update the time for the ever-nearing match. "I should get going. I will see you later, mon ami"

Mon ami...no wait...what does that mean? Reaper was suspicious.

"What does ami mean?" Reaper spoke up as Widow walked from him, and she stopped briefly.

"Oh, it means friend" She replied, before proceeding off in her own direction. "Maybe I should teach you some basic French so you can understand me better? Or I suppose I could just use more English..."

He watched her leave for a bit, before looking back at the picture.

"Quit standing around and get ready to move" Soldier 76 told Reaper as he walked past.

Reaper mumbled something, then went straight back to looking at the photo before finally pocketing it. For someone who was subjected to so much torture and experimenting, Widow looked...good. Better than good, she looked gorgeous.

But he would never actually tell her that, himself.


	3. Different

Bullets whizzed past Reaper and Widowmaker as they ran across rooftops, being pursued by Tracer and Winston. Widow was particularly unhappy that the bullets were being fired by her own weapon, which the speedster managed to steal from her using her time warping abilities.

She felt naked without her own rifle in her hands.

"This is Widowmaker, we need the dropship now!" She yelled into her com. "The mission is a failure! I repeat, the mission is a failure!"

Their mission to retrieve the Doomfist gauntlet from the Overwatch museum was thwarted, thanks to the intervening of some unwelcome civilians when they were busy dealing with Overwatch themselves. Widow herself ate a punch from the gauntlet, and Reaper got bodyslammed by Winston.

"That dropship better get here or we're done!" Reaper snarled as he fired his shotguns behind himself.

They were outmatched, and Reaper had no intention of being held captive. He had already been bested by this monkey once before, when he attempted to hack into all Overwatch agents data.

"It'll be here!" Widow assured him under pressure as he grabbed onto her before they swinged off a rooftop from Widow's grapplehook. "Just be ready!"

They landed onto another building top, but they were stopped in their tracks when Winston leap above and landed in front of them. Their first instinct was to simply run under his big arms, which miraculously worked. However their brief success was cut short when an electric charge jolted through both of them and they cried out, originating from Winston's weapon. The charge was maintained for a few seconds before stopping, and they both fell over, defeated.

As the terrorist duo struggled to get back on their feet, Winston and Tracer stood above them.

"Well, loves...that got a lot messier than it needed to be" The British woman said, in her always-annoying cheerful tone. "High marks for trying, though!"

"Tracer, help me restrain them" Winston said as he took out technological cuffs, one specially designed to hamper with Reaper's unique abilities. "There's a lot they can tell us about Talon, and we need the intel"

"Vous me touchez wont, singe..." Widow muttered.

In a stroke of luck, the Talon dropship appeared nearby, awaiting for them to board. The Overwatch agents were briefly distracted, which gave Reaper an opportunity to stand to his feet and activate his ultimate.

"Die! Die! Die!" He yelled out as he fired his shotguns wildly in all directions, Winston barely having enough time to shield himself and Tracer. "Time to move!"

Reaper turned to mist and flew in the direction of the dropship. Widow, however, couldn't leave just yet...not without the Widow's Kiss.

 _"I didn't manage to get the gauntlet, but I'm not losing my rifle"_ She thought. _"Not to this...annoyance"_

She leapt up at Tracer, and grabbed a hold of the assault rifle. They collapsed to the floor and struggled against each other, and Widow just managed to rip her weapon from the Brit's hands when she brought a hard headbutt down on her. Almost like a sixth sense, she ducked an incoming punch from Winston and turned to shove a venom mine on his face.

"My gift to you"

The mine exploded into a cloud of purple smoke, and Winston was left dazed as he uncontrollably coughed. Widow saw her opening, and started running after Reaper. As she ran, Reaper provided cover fire to ensure her retreat from a pursuing Tracer, and she was forced to let them go when Widow boarded. As they began to take off, Widow would have liked to take this opportunity to mock her opponents by blowing a kiss to them, but instead she could only glare at them with an unsatisfied gaze.

 _"Enjoy your victory while it lasts"_ She thought. _"This spider will only come back hungrier for blood"_

And until blood, their blood, is spilled? It's a hunger that will never be sated.

The Overwatch agents could do little else but watch as the dropship sped off, but it didn't matter.

"Aw, they got away!" Tracer expressed her disappointment.

They stopped Talon from retrieving the Doom Gauntlet.

That's what's mattered.

* * *

Reaper stood quietly inside the ship, before suddenly turning to Widowmaker, his movement swelling with outrage.

"What happened back there!?" He yelled at his partner, his hands out as if he was about to strangle her.

Widowmaker was not intimidated in the least however, and merely looked at him with the blank expression she always had.

"We failed" She stated, simply.

"And who's fault is that?" Reaper questioned.

"You blame me for this?"

Reaper turned away from her, waving his hand dismissively. He looked down at the floor, frustrated. Once again, he had been bested by Winston, one of his many hated enemies.

Widowmaker herself was also a little salty at her defeat, a first for her...she didn't like the feeling. She had proven victorious over Tracer before, but today she could not repeat the same success that she had in Kings Row when she assassinated Mondatta.

"Ugh, I prefer to work alone" She said as she crossed her arms and shook her head.

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual" Reaper assured her. "I thought you were supposed to be the perfect assassin"

That's what Talon made her to be, after all.

"You know, you aren't so flawless yourself" Widow told him with the slightest hint of annoyance in her voice. "You don't even know how to reload"

She never saw Reaper reload. He always pulled out new shotguns from wherever when he needed more ammo. Widow was not supernatural like him, though...so why was she getting all the blame? She did her best...he was at fault as much as she was.

"Furthermore, you're the one with supernatural powers" She went on. "Unlike you, I need to actually work for a success. You don't know how it feels to-"

She stopped when he almost exploded at her, turning swiftly to her and taking a threatening step forward.

"Work? Work!?" He hissed. "Everything that I am, everything I ever will be, is forged by the war and deaths I've experienced"

He placed a hand on his mask, and removed it from his face. Widow had never seen his mask-less before, and looked upon the deteriorated face of what was once a Hispanic man. His skin was a decaying grey, his pupils were an unnatural red, and his scars ran deep.

"These scars all tell the tale of Gabriel Reyes, and I see you have none on that pretty face of yours" He told her, his voice no longer an echoed shroud without the mask. "And he has experienced more than you ever will. For God's sake, I died!"

And Mercy brought him back as...this.

"You want to know the difference between me and you, Widow?" Reaper asked as he placed his mask back on. "I fight because I choose to...you fight because you're told to"

Everything about her was a lie. She was just an experiment, a housewife that was made into what she was by a syringe. Reaper was created from the sounds of bullets and spilling of blood and the stench of betrayal...whereas Widow was birthed from an operating table.

"So don't you dare tell me who has it easier" He went on as Widow continued watching him silently. "If anyone has had it easier, it's you. You were just given what you have, no previous experience required. While your husband was away fighting alongside me, you were probably busy dusting plates and cleaning the-"

"You've made your point" Widow rose her voice slightly, interrupting and stopping him. "And please, stop mentioning Gerard"

Reaper looked like he had more to say, but he could see that she understood what he said as he watched her eyes trail to the floor in contemplation. He simply turned from her and was silent, and they didn't speak for a while, hearing only the humming of the dropship's momentum.

He wanted to say more hurtful things, many involving her husband that he knows she still holds a soft spot for in that cold and soulless husk of hers...but he was satisfied with what was already said. She was put in her place.

"You are right" Widow said after a period of silence, looking up at him. "I'm certainly not perfect...but I'm only human, oui?"

She forced a small smile on her face, see if it would lift his mood. But alas, it didn't.

"You're barely human anymore" Reaper quietly spoke.

Her smile faded. That...was a very hypocritical statement.

"And what are you?" She questioned.

"I may not look pretty" Reaper muttered. "But at least I still have a soul"

His words might've hurt her, if she was capable of feeling pain in such a way. In fact, she was tired of trying to make herself care about how she might feel or how anyone else may feel. Emotion was heavy baggage, and she should be glad to be rid of it.

 _"I should stop trying"_ She thought. _"He doesn't care, and you shouldn't be capable of caring"_

Pretending to be alive wasn't working for her. The moment of the kill was the only thing that sparked any life in her.

"Fine, it was all my fault. It's alright though, I'll be fixed soon enough" Widow sighed. "Can't say I look forward to it, but it has to be done"

"Fixed? What do you mean?" Reaper questioned as he turned back to her.

She took a moment before responding.

"Tell me, Reaper...when a weapon doesn't work or it doesn't perform to expectations, what do you do with it?" Widow asked.

"You...dismantle it?" He supposed.

She shook her head.

"Not if the weapon costed you a fortune, no" She told him. "You fix it"

He didn't understand what she was getting at...but at the moment, he was currently too upset with her to care about anything she said. He simple mumbled an acknowledgement and paid her little attention after that.

And for the rest of the journey, they didn't speak to one another.

* * *

A few hours later, the dropship flew towards a remote facility, one of Talon's biggest to be precise. It was here where a report on Reaper and Widow's failure was to be made. It was also here where Widowmaker was born, and where Amelie Lacroix died.

"Home" Widow said, almost as if she was relieved.

"I only come here to collect my bounty" Reaper told her. "But thanks to you, there's no bounty due for me"

Widowmaker didn't look at him as she opened the dropship doors, and simply kept looking ahead. Ultimately she knew Reaper didn't care so much for the money. The Doomfist was more valuable than any sum.

"A pity, I'm sure" She said without a care.

They stepped out into a wide landing field, where many aircrafts such as the one they had just been on we're parked. Talon, for a terrorist organisation, had an impressive array of equipment and technology. Widowmaker herself was a prime example of how far their scientists and biological research could go.

"Maybe I'll show you my room, hm?" She offered, sarcastically. "I'm sure you'd like it. Dull grey walls, no lights, a cold metal bed to sleep on..."

She was living a life of luxury. Every morning she woke to the sound of chattering outside her room's one-way window...scientists jotting down notes no doubt, on what they should do on their next experiment for her...constantly monitored.

"Metal bed, huh?" Reaper said.

"Yes...I have it so easy, as I have come to understand" Widow said, relating back to their previous discussion. "But it's alright, surely a soulless individual such as myself cannot come to care about such things"

And that was true. She really didn't care...Reaper was speaking the truth, a truth she embraced.

Reaper sighed. Now that he had calmed down, he supposed that he was being too harsh on Widow...she meant well on their mission together. Before he could make any sort of apology however, he saw three men in white labcoats walking towards them across the airfield. They were all aged, and had an eery look to them.

"Unsuccessful, Widowmaker?" The one in the middle asked, and the assassin nodded. "How unfortunate, this is a first for you. Come, everything has already been prepared"

Widowmaker obediently allowed herself to be escorted by two of the scientists, one of them staying behind with Reaper. The wraith watched as Widowmaker left without a word, not even looking back at him or blowing an empty kiss as she usually did.

It seemed his apology might have to wait.

"Tell me..." The man in the labcoat began as they continued watching the blue woman walk off with her coated escorts. "You have worked alongside our subject for some time now, how has she performed?"

There was certainly a lot to tell. Although Reaper didn't often show it, he found Widow to be a fascinating person. He wished he hadn't snapped at her earlier...but at least she couldn't feel any pain from his words. He hoped.

 _"I don't give her enough credit"_ He thought.

She was a great sniper, and he was glad to have her at his side. Their losses should be just as important as their victories...they learn from them.

"She's an interesting character" Reaper said without looking at the man, instead just facing the direction Widow had walked. "She can be a pain with that discreet smugness of hers...but she's alright"

That didn't answer the man's question, however. In fact, he seemed displeased with what Reaper had said.

"Character?" The man repeated. "Widowmaker is not meant to have a character, she is a weapon...but no fear, we aim to fix these problems...these anomalies"

Suddenly, it all made sense to Reaper. Widowmaker was considered a weapon, and relating to what he was told earlier, when a weapon isn't working...it's fixed. She was going to be fixed...it explained the scientists and "everything already being prepared".

And that scared him, a feeling he rarely felt anymore.

"What are you going to do to her?" Reaper demanded to know.

The scientist was casually jotting notes on a clipboard. Reaper wondered of what, exactly. But he knew enough anyways...he suspected that they were going to be tampering in her head, like they did to Amelie years ago to make Widowmaker in the first place. More neural reconditioning.

"We aim to make her perfect" The scientist said simply.

No doubt they had an interesting concept of perfect when it came to their assassin. Reaper could see their point of view, though...they would expect their little project to perform optimally the task of killing if that's what it was made for. Things like emotion, comfort, and...being alive? They weren't important.

But...Reaper didn't want her rid of those things regardless.

"She's a human being" Reaper pointed out. "

The man almost chuckled.

"She's barely human anymore, Reaper" He assured the wraith. "Do not concern yourself over her, what we do to her can only make her easier to work with in the future. Unless...she hasn't...developed a friendship with you, has she?"

To this, Reaper did not respond.

"Barely human anymore". The words were almost the exact same that Reaper used to describe Widow, when he was still mad at her. It made him feel guilty. He would take it all back right now if he could, he was wrong to say all that. Widow didn't need perfection, she already perfect just the way she was...he didn't want her being fiddled with any further.

He was afraid of what it would do to her.

 _"But there's nothing I can do about it"_ He thought. _"Even Widow is willingly going along with it"_

That's what would be expected of her, of course. Deep in her head, she was programmed to follow Talon without question and without doubts. If Talon told her to kill Reaper, she would surely try it, despite their friendship.

Or maybe friendship was the wrong word...more like, an understanding.

"If you excuse me, I have work to attend to" The scientist said as he began walking his own way.

Work involving a probe in Widow's head, no doubt.

"I'm sure" Reaper muttered.

Reaper stood by himself, worried for Widow. He sometimes forgot that Widow was never meant to be considered a person, that she was merely a tool. Reaper shouldn't even have to be concerning himself over her, yet...

No...she was so much more to him than that. She wasn't a weapon...she was just...

 _"Different"._


	4. Memories

"Enjoy your evening, sir" A greeter said to the pair in front of him. "You too, ma'am"

The man and woman walked arm-in-arm together, into a large hall. A fancy, French party they had just entered...with classic music and pompous guests everywhere. A large table extending meters was stacked high with luxurious drinks, and food such as lobster and scallops. It all looked very expensive, and it might as well be...the host of this magnificent event was a young man by the name of Alexander Iélie, who had recently just acquired the wealth of his father after his passing. The rising threat of a Second Omnic Crisis was claiming lives all other the world, yet the rich still found a way to blot it out and benefit from it somehow. It was typical of them.

Well, unfortunately for Alexander, Talon wanted his head...and they sent their best agents to accomplish this.

"I hate this outfit" Reaper complained. "Feels tight"

He was dressed in a classic, French tuxedo. Complete with the large shoulder pads, and the puffy wrists. He felt like a tool...he'd take his black cloak any day.

"The clothing is not meant for comfort, but for showing one's status" His companion told him, in a suiting French accent considering the environment. "In our case, we are of a high status indeed"

The woman beside him was dressed similarity to him, a tailed tuxedo and tie, puffy wrists, shoulder pads and boots...with a black and red colour scheme. She had worn an outfit like this before...but this time she decided to leave the visor and gauntlet. They were meant to fit in with the other partygoers, after all.

"You took hours putting on your makeup" Reaper muttered.

Widowmaker had spent extensive amounts of time to disguise her blue skin, using cosmetics. The result wasn't perfect, her skin still had a slight blue to it...but now it only seemed like she was suffering from minor cyanosis...instead of the usually-fatal form. She didn't do it to appear pretty or anything, merely only to prevent unwanted eyes gawking at her impossibly-blue skin.

It would only help them on the mission. The disguises were necessary, as Talon didn't want this particular mission being traced back to them. It would be obvious to who the culprits were if a blue woman and an undead wraith were doing the killing. Though Widow did offer to help Reaper disguise his disfigured face, but he was quick to decline...he got some strange glances, but people knew well enough to mind their own business.

"Iélie is unlikely to leave his chambers for the party, on the uppermost level" Widow explained as a whisper as they walked together, aimlessly. "But he's likely to come down at some point"

Reaper took a shrimp from the table and popped it in his mouth. Crunchy.

"Well, you're the femme fatale" He said with his mouth full. "I'm sure you got a thousand ways of leading men to their deaths, using only those looks of yours"

While that was true, she couldn't do anything until she even saw the man. Any respectful host would surely come to visit his guests...all they had to do, was wait.

"Yes" She agreed, looking around the party. "Perhaps in the meantime we should mingle? For appearances?"

Reaper didn't seem so enthusiastic about that idea. His face would probably have people running.

"I've told you before, I'm not good at socialising" He told her. "And neither are you"

She nodded, silently. That was alright, they could just...wait.

Widow looked into the ice sculpture on the table of Iélie himself, life-sized. She wondered how long it must've taken to sculpt this.

"Hmm" She hummed as she reached out to the ice foot, and touched it with her fingers...she barely felt the cold sensation in her tips.

Her reflection in the ice made herself just take a moment to stare at herself, while Reaper continued eating shrimp. Her "normalised" appearance could not stop old, unwanted memories from finding themselves in her head.

* * *

"Gerard, honey...who's this?" Amélie asked as her husband walked into the kitchen with a woman. "I'd have made tea if I knew we were having guests"

Gerard sat down at the table, and the dark-skinned woman approached Amélie to greet her. She had a tattoo under her left eye, but Amélie didn't know what it was meant to mean. She was also wearing a lengthy, blue coat...military? Likely one of Gerard's Overwatch cronies.

"Hello Amélie, I'm Ana Amari" Ana said with a warm greeting, reaching to shake her hand. "We haven't met, but Gerard speaks of you all the time. Doesn't shut up, quite frankly"

Gerard chuckled, and Amélie smiled. Ana Amari...yes, that was a familiar name...the sniper that Gerard worked with. She had heard of her in one of Gerard's stories to impress her. It always worked.

"Oh, well I'm happy to meet you, Ana" She returned her friendly hello. "I'll make some tea for you"

Ana thanked her, and then went to sit with Gerard. As Amélie began boiling water in a kettle, she couldn't help but overhear some of their conversation.

"How have Gabriel and Jack been doing?" Gerard asked.

"How do you think? On edge as always" She replied. "I'm afraid one of these days, they'll start taking shots at each other"

"They've been through too much together, I doubt it'll ever come to that" He said optimistically.

But being optimistic wasn't Ana's strong suit...if she didn't worry, who would? Someone had to be cautious. Meanwhile, Gerard was happy to boast about his wife's butt. But...he was very successful in shutting down terrorist operations, such as Talon...so Ana was always willing to put up with his...objectification of Amélie. He deserved a real smack on the back of the head, though.

He was just horsing around, though. He was a loving husband, and his only problem was that he couldn't see Amélie more often. His duty calls often saw him away from her. She understood how important his work was, though...and how dangerous it was. The best she could do for him, was ensure he had a loving wife to go back to.

"I think Talon are getting mad at me" Gerard said with a smirk as Amélie walked over to pour tea for them. "They've been increasing their efforts to kill me, but I've kept thwarting them every time"

Now if any other wife heard of chatter about their husbands having attempts made on their life, they'd freak out. Amélie, though? She was used to this sort of discussion. Gerard talked of it like a game, or a minor obstacle.

It didn't mean Amélie didn't worry for him, though.

"Gerard, not in front of your wife" Ana lectured him.

"I'm used to it" Amélie muttered with a tiny smile. "It's essentially our pillow talk, at this point"

That got a little chuckle out of Ana.

* * *

Widowmaker tore her eyes from the ice sculpture, and looked at Reaper. He had moved on to eating miniature mince pies. How long had she been day-dreaming?

"Are you...hungry?" Widow asked.

He shrugged.

"Don't need to eat, but this stuff sure is tasty" He said. "And I got nothing else to do but wait until Iélie shows himself. Don't worry, I'll burn it all off"

Well, Widow didn't seem happy just being near this ice sculpture. It brought back unpleasant memories. She looked around for something, anything, to devote her attention to and found there were people dancing elegantly in one of the large rooms. Musicians and clapping viewers were all laughing and having a good time.

"Well, I've found your method of burning it off" Widow said as she nodded to the crowd. "Tu j'aime danse?"

Reaper followed the path of which Widow was looking, and when he got the gist of what she proposed, he was quick to be disapproving.

"Yeah...no" He disagreed, before turning back to the table. "I'm not dancing with you, or anyone. And that...is final. We need to keep an eye peeled out for Iélie, anyways"

Killjoy.

"How do we intend to go about this, then?" Widow asked.

Reaper would propose him pulling out a shotgun from his infinite pockets, and making a quick getaway once the man was dead. Not that any of the security here could challenge them, anyways.

"I mean, unless you have your own method planned" He said. "You wearing poisonous lipstick, by any chance?"

She shrugged and smiled faintly. Lucky guess.

"Well, this'll be easy" He told her. "No man is too bothered when a lady just kisses them out of nowhere. We'll introduce ourselves to him when he comes to greet the guests, and you can give him one of those French kisses?"

She nodded. It sounded like an acceptable course of action. A Widow's Kiss would be her weapon today, but not the actual weapon of the same name.

"Well, I suppose it's just waiting until then" Widow said as she looked back to the dancing crowd.

Seeing happy couples laughing and clapping together sparked old memories. Whenever she saw things like this, it reminded her of Gerard.

Reaper noticed that Widow was just staring at the crowd, with many thoughts noticeably going through her head. Usually you couldn't tell what she was thinking due to the blank expression she often had, but in this case? There was definitely something going on in that brain of her's. She almost looked sad.

"Oh for fu..." He swore under his breathe, feeling guilty. "Fine. One little dance, but only because you made me feel sorry for you"

He was going to feel like a tool. Dancing was...completely not-him. But he found himself doing a lot of things with Widow that he'd never do otherwise. He crushed on her, but he also acknowledged that she wasn't supposed to feel anything other than the thrill of a kill. It made it easy for him to accept her inability to share his feelings, and therefore easy for him to not feel disheartened.

"Merci" She whispered with an amused smirk, taking his hand and leading him from the large table with a slight enthusiasm. "Just follow my lead, mon cherie"

"That better not mean "my love" or anything" He warned her in a mutter, as he took her arms.

"My dear" She answered for him.

"Not much better"

Widow was familiar with dancing of this sort, but Reaper was clueless. Not to worry, he'd pick it up quickly...she assumed. It wasn't anything too complex, she...used to do it all the time when she a young woman. In fact, she even took lessons for ballet dancing before she met Gerard...she still remembered the white dress she used, stylised after a bird.

 _"At least, Amélie did"_ She thought.

But no matter how much she differentiated herself from her former self, she couldn't deny that they were, biologically, one and the same. She was aware of the brainwashing and neural reconditioning that Amélie was subjected to in order to create Widowmaker, and she simply accepted it. Those were her origins, and she had to make her own story from that point on. Amélie was dead, she died along with her husband.

But sometimes she forgot that she was meant to be Widowmaker, and not Amélie. The old memories couldn't simply be wiped, and old bonds were not so easily forgotten. She'd think about something she used to enjoy, then realise it was a hobby of Amélie's...not her own. In fact, she didn't really have any hobbies...no likes and dislikes...and her body was numbed, and it took some of life's more precious qualities from her. Dancing with Reaper, while it could be easily dismissed as fitting in with the others, still made Widow feel...well, she didn't know how she felt. She didn't really feel anything, perhaps.

She wasn't meant to feel anything.

* * *

In front of the fireplace in their home, Gerard and Amelie were sitting together in an intimate fashion. Gerard cherished any time his wife, as he never knew when his luck would fail him and Talon would succeed in their campaign to kill him. He was always optimistic, but he also had to be realistic. How would Amélie feel if he would, one day, never come back home?

"Honey, I have a question for you" Gerard asked.

"Hmm?" She was listening.

He was a little anxious to ask.

"What's your opinion on kids?" He gave the question, and she chuckled.

Amélie had no real opinion of them. She couldn't say she was so keen on having her own, though...she was young, she didn't feel she was ready.

"What, you thinking of putting some in the oven?" She said as she pointed to her stomach. "Gerard, I know you. We aren't ready for something like that, and...this is probably just an excuse for you to bed me, isn't it?"

He gave an innocent yet smug look. Him? Never!

"I can be serious sometimes, Amélie" He told her. "Not all the time, sure...but-"

Before he started getting all sincere, she shut him up by kissing him. That usually worked. Okay, always worked. She did it quite often.

"Maybe when we're older" Amélie answered. "Until then, this should just be me and you"

His smiled, and nodded. It was a satisfying answer.

"You and me" He agreed.

Amélie stood up and took Gerard's hand, making him stand up with her.

"Come, let me practise some ballet with you?" She offered. "A little dancing always makes me happy"

They did a lot of little quiet dancing. It was a hobby of Amélie's.

"Best part about your ballet, is the outfit you wear" He told her. "That white skirt is just high enough so that...heh, well..."

She rolled her eyes. Pervert.

 _"But...he's my pervert"_ She thought.

* * *

Widowmaker opened her eyes to find herself stepping close to Reaper's decaying face, who was leaning back to avoid being kissed by the poisonous lipstick on her mouth. When she noticed her position, she let go of him and stepped down.

"Uh...apologies" She said, crossing her arms and looking down at the floor, almost embarrassed. "I drifted off for a moment, there"

"No kidding" He agreed. "Now can we get out of here? Dancing with you is a dangerous thing, clearly"

She nodded, and they both left the room together. Widow wished Iélie would just show himself already, because this party was just sparking more and more unpleasant memories in her head. Things she didn't want to see again.

"I want to leave this place" Widow stated to her companion as they walked without a set destination. "How much longer until one decides to greet his guests?"

Reaper mumbled. He could share in her distaste for all of this.

 _"Damn, we really are a pair of miseries"_ He noticed.

Their patience was eventually rewarded. The musicians stopped their performance and attention was given to the impressive and large stairway, where a smartly dressed man in a tuxedo walked down in an elegant fashion. Alexander Iélie...their target.

"If I could please have your attention" The man requested as he tapped a tiny spoon on a champagne glass. "I just want to thank you all for taking the time to come to this event. My father, bless his heart, would be honoured to have you all"

The man went on about their statuses and why they were all successful and blah blah blah. It was unimportant to Widowmaker and Reaper. All they had to do was wait their turn to be greeted.

"I'll allow you to do what you do best" Reaper told her as he began walking his own direction.

"Where are you going?" Widow asked.

"Getting out of this outfit" He muttered, tugging at his collar.

Widow turned to watch Iélie shaking hands and conversing with his guests. This would be easy, she just had to kiss him.

"Bonjour, Madame" Iélie greeted Widowmaker as he approached her, and shook her hand while noticing how cold she felt. "Oh, a bit chilly are we?"

She forced a chuckle.

"Perhaps it's from all that standing around this sculpture" She pointed out, nodding to the ice statue.

He stood next to her and inspected the sculpture, cupping his own chin and looking intelligent.

"An expensive investment to produce this sculpture, but well worth it" He said, admiring his own face. "Tell me, my dear, what do you think of it?"

She thought of the first flattering thing that came to mind. In her time as a femme fatale, she had come up with a lot of such things.

"It really represents your brilliance, Monsieur" She said, acting enthusiastic. "I could only dream of being honoured in such a way"

"Tell me about yourself, my lady" Iélie said politely, as he handed her a glass of wine from the table.

Yikes. She hadn't...really thought of an alter ego story, or background. She didn't think she'd need one. So, she was forced to talk of the only other life she knew. It wouldn't make for suitable conversation to talk of the life of Widowmaker, the emotionless and cold assassin.

"I'm...Amélie Lacroix" She said, with a great discomfort and swirling her glass. "There's nothing special about me, really. Not compared to you, Monsieur"

"You must have some special qualities, you were invited after all" He told her.

That was the funny thing about rich folk. Their invites went out to other people of their status, not because they were friends or anything...but merely, just so they could show off to one another. Having the riches wasn't enough, you had to rub it in other people's faces.

Widow and Realer were only here because Talon needed them to be here. Hardly rich. Widowmaker didn't even have her own salary...she didn't need one. Weapons don't need salaries.

"My husband often said I had a nice rear" She said, half-humorously.

"Ah, is the husband with you now?" He asked.

"He is...dead" She put simply.

"Oh" He expressed brief, genuine surpise. "I'm sorry to hear that"

But Widow didn't stop discussing him there. She continued swirling her glass without even taking a sip, while being deep in thought.

"Oh, Gerard...he was always such a passionate man..." She went on. "I always felt so lonely when he wasn't around, but so alive when he was"

She continued discussing Gerard for a while, almost forgetting her whole purpose to be chatting Iélie up in the first place. She let her old memories interfere again, for the third time tonight.

They talked for a while longer, mostly about Gerard, and then Iélie figured it was time to move on to other guests. Perhaps he wanted to get away from this rather depressing woman with a clear case of cyanosis...he didn't mention that, though. It was none of his business.

"If you'll pardon me, Madame" He said, nodding to the other guests. "It has been a pleasure"

He went to shake her hand, and once again felt her cold touch. Then, Widow tugged at his arm and brought him close. She kissed him on the mouth, in a respectful manner, and Iélie bid her farewell.

"Goodnight, Amélie"

He only managed to take a few steps before he suddenly felt a painful swelling in his chest. He gasped and clutched at himself, stopping in his tracks. A few guests noticed his apparent predicament, and it wasn't long before screaming ensued when he collapsed for seemingly little reason. Widow was calmly leaving the party, but her mind was much more focussed elsewhere than on all of this.

The mission was completed.

* * *

Reaper, clad in his regular attire once again, found Widowmaker outside the mansion by the water fountain. He assumed she had fulfilled the mission, if the screaming was anything to go by. Seemed she made good use of that poisonous lipstick.

"Nice job, Widow" He complimented her.

Widowmaker was quietly stood by thefountain, and then crouched down and looked at her reflection in the water. Amélie Lacroix stared back.

"I didn't have a good night, tonight" She whispered, trickling her hands in the water.

"Great, I danced with you for nothing" Reaper groaned. "Don't you like the aftermath of a job well done? You told me its all your strive for"

She didn't answer for a moment. She brought her wet hand back, and looked at the blue that was revealed under the fake skin colouring, which was washed away.

"Maybe that's the problem with me" She said as she wiped her hand across her face, washing away more makeup.

She tried to enjoy herself tonight, but found it was impossible. At the end of the day, it was just another mission. She really was just a shell of a woman...she had all the looks, but none of the substance.

"Look, I didn't want us to leave feeling unhappy..." Reaper began.

"Why does it matter? We're just colleagues...we came here to perform a mission and we completed it" Widow told him.

"Then why do you seem so...sad?" He asked.

She didn't answer that immediately. She just looked back into her reflection, sighed and shook her head.

"I miss Gerard" She muttered finally. "I miss him so much"

It's been near six years since his death. Since Overwatch was disbanded for the first time. Since she was transformed into Widowmaker. Yet all those events felt like they only happened yesterday.

Reaper sighed and crouched next to Widowmaker. Even though they were only meant to be strictly partners for the purpose of killing, sharing their stories and simply spending time together had turned them into friends. They didn't flaunt it...hell, they rarely acknowledged each other as anything more than colleagues, but they still knew it inside.

"Your husband was a good man" He told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and removing his mask. "One of the finest soldiers I'd ever fought alongside with"

Even though Reaper always felt some grudges towards Overwatch and Jack Morrison, he knew that things went downhill soon after Gerard's death. He argued with Jack more, Ana had soon been killed, the world grew to hate them and the United Nations didn't trust them...it all fell apart.

And he supposed he was partly to blame for all that. Reaper didn't hate Overwatch specifically...just what it became, what it did to him. He once believed in the cause as much as anyone else.

"Sorry, I didn't want to make this a sob story" Widowmaker apologised. "Even if I wanted to cry, I don't think I'm capable of it"

Her tear ducts were all there and all, she just wasn't able to stimulate enough emotion to turn them on.

"It's fine...I think about the old days too" He said assuringly. "But we gotta move on. We've both lost family...and perhaps a piece of ourselves"

After he was resurrected, Reaper was born. His return wasn't perfect however, now his body was constantly decaying and regenerating at once.

"Me, more than you" Widow told him. "I've lost so many of the basic things that we Humans are meant to have. I'm a weapon, that is trying to be a woman"

Reaper stood up and made her stand up with him. He looked at her, and saw a blue smear of cyanosis across her face where makeup was wiped off her skin. He didn't care about how she looked, or what she thought she was. She was very much a woman to him.

"This is gonna sound soppy coming from me, but you deserve to hear it" He began as he touched her arms. "To me, you are not a weapon. To me, you're a person. You're more alive than you know, Widow"

She wanted to believe that, but she felt so dead inside. Nothing sparked anything inside her anymore, she couldn't...feel anything. Not even a kill gave her much more than a small smile or a chuckle.

"But you don't understand" Widow tried to argue. "I feel so...numb. I'm meant to be this way, but I'm not sure I like this anymore. I tried to embrace it, but spending all this time with you and being in this environment is just...I just don't know how to feel"

She wished she never took up this assignment. Well, she didn't have a choice but...ugh! She just hated everything about this.

"Numbness. That's all I feel" She went on. "I'm a husk of what was once a very happy woman, I feel nothing but emptiness in my skin and my heart and my brain and my-"

She was interrupted when Reaper, much to her surpise, kissed her. Right on the lips, for which it was fortunate she had removed her lipstick...though she doubted poison would do much to a man like Reaper given his physiology. She just stood there, accepting his advance.

 _"Well then..."_ She thought. _"This is unexpected"_

Reaper touched the side of her face as he continued kissing her. It felt like he was kissing and touching ice, but he didn't care. Suppose he should be more concerned with how he appeared and felt, considering his body was always decaying and regenerating. Maybe he smelt like dead bodies, and felt like rotten meat...but odds are, Widow wouldn't care.

They were both freaks, that was the truth.

When Reaper separated himself from her, they stared somewhat awkwardly for a moment. Reaper then placed his mask back on to avoid showing any form of embarrassment, as he suddenly carried a thousand regrets. Widow barely showed any form of effect, as expected.

"That was just to make you shut up" Reaper forced a cough. "I'm...just gonna go. I'll, uh...see you around"

He flew off hastily into a black mist, and Widow was left standing alone. She was...surprised to say the least. She hasn't had a kiss like that since Gerard...she had kissed a lot of people since becoming Widowmaker, but she was always placing herself on them. For the first time in a long time, someone had placed themself on her, not the other way around. She wasn't sure on what to think of that...all that neural reconditioning hadn't prepared her for this.

 _"Hm, come to think of it...I rarely know to think of anything"_ She thought.

She touched herself on the mouth and stood idly by for a while longer before finally walking her own direction. She had a lot to think about, and she was sure she'd have a lot to discuss with Reaper the next time she saw him. Clearly, there was a lot he wasn't telling her...and she would be interested in knowing his thoughts regarding his blue companion.


	5. Time

Reaper entered his home, opening the door and closing it behind him with his foot. In his arms, he carried Widowmaker, who had bleeding injuries on her right forearm and left leg. The assassin had a close encounter with Genji, and she was quite lucky to be alive. Reaper managed to chase the cyborg ninja off at a good time, but Widow had already sustained her wounds by that point.

"Welcome to my home" He said as he carried her into a living room and carefully sat her down at a table. "I'll just go get some things for you"

He walked off into one of the other rooms, and Widow took a moment to look around. Reaper's home was quite...interesting to look at. There was a lot of black...and really dark grey. It seemed the man's edginess was reflected even in his choice of housing.

But darkness never bothered Widowmaker.

"Merde" She muttered as she looked at her wounded arm, blood slowly dripping on the clean table.

She always hated Genji. The former Overwatch agent was a weakness, one which she couldn't overcome. It made her feel weak, needing Reaper to save her from him. What could she do against a man who reflected all her shots, and who's cyborg body made him near impervious to poisons?

Suppose she should be thankful that Reaper was there for her at the right time, however. Her current condition could be worse however, the reduced blood flow from her barely-beating heart meant that her blood loss was at a minimum. Still, her wounds were uncomfortably deep and infection would be inconvenient.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before" Reaper said as he walked back into the room, carrying a bottle of unknown substance, some bandages and a cloth. "Now, let's get your wounds cleaned"

He pulled up a chair and sat to her side. Instructing her to lay out her arm while he opened up the bottle and dabbed the cloth he carried with its contents, the Wraith then took gentle hold of her arm...hesitated, then stopped before he made contact between flesh and cloth.

"Um...this is gonna hurt" He admitted.

Widowmaker showed no fear or worry, however. She merely nodded, and gave him the go-ahead.

"I can take it. It's not often that I've endured such injuries, but-"

She stopped when an unbearable stinging began to swell in her arm, and she gasped loudly with a wince so explosive she near smacked Reaper in the face. Reaper stopped briefly, let her recover for a moment, then proceeded on. Her wincing grew less intense as he continued, and her gasps turned into shameful whimpers in time.

"Urgh, are you done yet?" She would ask, many, many times.

A little while later however, Reaper was finally done. He placed the bloodied cloth to one side, and began to wrap her limb in bandage, which proved a much less unpleasant experience.

"Lucky I arrived when I did" Reaper said, rolling around her arm. "Didn't want to have to send your decapitated head back to Talon"

Widow forced an unamused huff. She didn't like being in this...charitable position, but she supposed that not every engagement was going to be a clean operation for her. Everyone had their counters, and hers was Genji. Pit her against, say, Bastion or Torbjorn...

 _"Then we'd have a different story"_ She thought.

"Be more careful next time" He advised.

"D'accord...d'accord" She responded.

They weren't done though. Reaper had Widow stand up, and he supported her to his sofa. He noticed that blood was dripping slowly all over his clean floor...that wasn't a pleasing sight for him. He may not seem the type on the outside, but Reaper would prefer his house stayed clean.

"Take your boot off" He instructed.

Widowmaker began to remove the armour from her leg, but it proved a challenge for her. Her leg wound was sticking, and was very sensitive despite her numbed senses. Reaper assisted her with removing the boot, while thinking about what his role suddenly was: flanker or support?

"Mercy would be having a field day with this" He mumbled.

When her leg was exposed, he saw the unpleasant gash in her skin. The exposure to air was slightly relieving to Widow...but soon she'd be wincing all over the place once Reaper got back to work.

"Merde" She cursed again.

* * *

Widow looked at her bandaged leg, and a small smile crept on her blue face. It was painful, but at the end of it all...she already felt a lot better. Hopefully she would recover quickly, as there was always plenty of missions that Talon had for her. It wouldn't be a good look for their favourite agent if she was having a small vacation due to injuries on the job.

"Curious...do you ever get any time off?" Reaper asked as he held two cups of tea, handing one to Widow. "Or does Talon work you at all times?"

"I don't get any vacations, if that's what's you're asking" Widow replied. "But I do spend some time among regular people"

Widowmaker was often tasked with killing certain key targets in the world. The most effective method, in some cases, was to impersonate a love interest and hit them when she was closest to them. The sad thing was, however...she often came to develop a liking with those she fooled. In the end however, her time with them often ended with a broken neck in bed, or the smothering of a pillow.

"Hm. You ever wanted some time off?" He said, removing his mask and pulling his hood down.

"Even if I did, I don't think I would know what I'd do" She admitted. "Killing is all I've ever been made to do...it's my function"

Reaper took a delight in killing his enemies, so it didn't seem so bad to him. Whenever he was not doing mercenary work, he was doing his own personal business, waging war against Overwatch. Destroying Overwatch had become his obsession...he hated them from experience, but Widow fought against them because it's what she was programmed to do.

"Reaper, you often ask me questions of this sort" Widow told him. "And you always get the same general response. But now I have to ask you a question: why do you care so much?"

Reaper had no obligation for her. They were partners, but only because it was for mission convenience...their skills melded well together. Why would Reaper take a liking to someone that he knew was supposed to function like a weapon? Someone who, while they had the appearance of a woman, had none of a woman's substance?

"I...well, is there something wrong with me being nice to you?" He asked. "It doesn't bother you, does it?"

Reaper was nice to a very select few. Widow should feel graced.

"No...I suppose not" She said quietly. "But you're the only one who treats me like...I'm Human. Catering to my wounds? No one else would do that for me...you care about me, but you have no reason to"

While her modified DNA all pointed towards humanity, it was still just a mere shell. She may have been human on the outside, but on the inside...

"You think, after all the time we've spent together, that I wouldn't care for you?" Reaper questioned. "Don't cut yourself short, Widow"

She looked at him with great attention. Her yellow eyes wide with interest. For the first time, in a long time, she felt the warmth of affectionate words. She felt...valued.

"I care about you, too" She said quietly, the words feeling alien on her tongue. "You're...awfully sweet when we're not in the middle of a mission"

When you got to know Reaper, he didn't seem like a bad guy for someone who had to kill just to stay alive. Their rather sincere moment left them sitting awkwardly for a moment, but thankfully something to distract them occurred.

"I'm home, Gabe!" A voice called out as the door opened, then closed. "Hope your hungry, cause I got some chips to share!"

A woman with dark skin entered the living area, holding a small carton of chips that she ate out of. She had a half-shaved hairstyle, thick coat, and cybernetic implants visible through her skin. She was quite a colourful character.

"Sombra, you're back early" Reaper told her. "How did things go?"

"Oh, you mean the mission? Swell as always, Talon really appreciates my talents" She said smugly, with a stupid smile before looking at them. "Oh, Widow's here? Hey, we got the whole gang together!"

The hacker left her food to one side and then sat down in between her colleagues, wrapping her arm around their shoulders and bringing them close to her. They both squirmed rather uncomfortably.

"It's Halloween today, grumpies. Got anything planned? I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" Sombra went on cheerfully, yet suggestively as she swapped glances to both of them "I always wonder what goes on between you two when I'm not in the room..."

Reaper was quick to shut down her theory however.

"Widowmaker can't even feel love or have the capacity to desire it, so I don't know what you're talking about" He grumbled, then contemplating on his choice of words.

 _"Hmm...probably not the best way to word that..."_ He thought.

Reaper managed to bring himself back to square one, because he found himself in an awkward silence again as Sombra released them from her arms. He forced himself to speak up, though.

"Right...Widow, you should probably get some rest before you head off back to HQ" He said as he and Sombra stood up. "We have a little talking to do"

"Okay" Widow accepted his proposal as she watched them leave.

They left the room, Reaper before Sombra. The hacker suspected she was in trouble...

"Boop!" Sombra said as she turned off the light, and then closed the door after her.

* * *

Reaper walked into his edgy kitchen, Sombra following behind him. He seemed annoyed with her, but that was something that Sombra was used to. Reaper was always annoyed at her. If she wasn't so good at her job, Reaper would've probably had already tried to literally sew her mouth shut.

"Damn it, don't talk about me and Widow like that" He told her. "We've been through this before, stop being so suggestive"

She shrugged and leaned against the wall. She still had a dumb look on her face.

"What, why not? You two are so good together" She tried to explain. "You both have no sense of humour and you both take everything seriously. She's a perfect match for you"

"Don't...talk about that stuff around her" He warned as he lowered his voice. "You'll confuse her. Do you not realise, she's murdered every lover she's ever had...how could I possibly want to get with someone like that?"

Like an actual spider, Widowmaker killed all her partners after making love to them. It wasn't really her fault, it was all due to the programming in her head. Her own husband, Gerard, was the first of her many victims. Her very name, Widowmaker, came from the fact that she made herself a widow.

"C'mon, she'd make an exception for you, Gabriel" Sombra told him. "Do you really think she'd try to kill you? I can see it in her eyes, she totally wants you"

And for reasons other than the thrill of a kill. Sombra often saw Widow look at Reaper for longer than she should, or perhaps she'd catch her looking at his butt. Reaper had pretty sexy legs, after all.

"Fact is, Reaper..." She went on, lowering her voice and becoming more sincere. "...she loves you. She doesn't show it or anything, but I can just tell...and I'm not an expert of love"

Reaper stood still, looking at the floor. He was absorbing her words, thinking about how he should respond. A little more resistance remained in him.

"It just doesn't feel right..." He sighed. "I knew her before she became what she is now and I knew her husband. Hell, she's nearly half my age too...I've been fighting near as long as she's been alive"

Sombra shrugged again. The age difference was rather significant, but they were both mature adults.

"Speaking of being alive..." Sombra said. "You make her feel alive. I'd say that's a pretty big accomplishment when we're talking about a woman that isn't supposed to feel emotions"

But there was no way she would be able to approach Reaper and tell him how she felt. The programming in her brain would simply stop her, she was just...physically incapable of it. If something was to happen between them, it would have to be Reaper to ignite the flames.

"I don't want anything to happen between us" Reaper made clear. "For fucks sake, I don't even know why I'm discussing this with you"

It was an unusual topic for him. It made him feel soft, to be having this...soppy conversation. Sombra was evidently making no progress on getting him to open up...so she decided to drop a bomb of knowledge on him.

"Perhaps there's something you should know, then..." She began, somewhat nervously as she played with her own fingers to give her eyes something to look at besides Reaper's face. "I was digging around on some of the files that Talon have on Widowmaker, being the amazing hacker I am..."

She lightly chuckled...but her face paved way to a slight sadness when she knew what she had to say would pain Reaper.

"...obviously, they gave her a lot of genetic modifications and stuff...to make her a better sniper" She continued as Reaper listened. "But...that severe condition of cyanosis she has? The thing that makes her skin blue and cold? They enhanced her haemoglobin so she wouldn't just collapse of oxygen deficiency...but it didn't stop the side-effects"

Reaper was growing impatient at this epiphany she seemed to be preparing to bring on him.

"Yes, I'm aware of what they did to Amélie" He informed her. "Get to the point. What should I know?"

Sombra tried to spit it out, but it was hard without first offering some context.

"I even looked at the documents of the scientists the experimented on her...and they..." She stopped, and then forced herself to go on. "Her cyanosis is the most severe case in history, even Talon's best scientists couldn't find a way to stop the degrading effect of the body cells completely...they could only slow it"

She looked up at Reaper, feeling sorry to have to tell him.

"Reaper, Gabriel...Widowmaker is dying"

It was what everything in the documents pointed to. Cyanosis caused the body to shut down due to a lack of oxygen, and without oxygen some of the most basic functions of life cannot occur. Cyanosis was a fatal condition...Talon used it to make Widow a more effective sniper, as a slow heartbeat meant her aim was steadier...they didn't need her to survive, just merely last long enough to get use out of her. She had been Widowmaker for around six years now, and had many successes under her belt.

"No, that can't be right" Reaper said, shaking his head. "Widow is one of Talon's most prized agents, they wouldn't let her just die"

Sombra wanted to believe that, but this was a terrorist organisation they were talking about...

"Why not?" She supposed quietly. "All they'd need to do is find another innocent person to subject to their experiments...then boop, another Widowmaker"

Reaper continued shaking his head, walking around in circles now. He wanted to scream at Sombra, to shout and ask why she would think of such a sick joke. Fact was though. Sombra was teasing, but she wouldn't make up something like that...not to him.

So he quietly, for now, accepted the truth. Despite how furious he felt inside.

"How long does she have?" He asked as he hung his head slightly.

"They estimated that she would last eight years...that was six years ago" Sombra told him, feeling guilty.

Still, he remained quiet.

"And does Widowmaker know of this?"

She shook her head.

He gave one slow nod. He rested his hands on a table as he turned his back to her and looked down at nothing. He simply contemplated...but he really wanted to yell at something, find a reason to blame Sombra.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" He mumbled. "Why are you only telling me this now?"

He might have not have allowed himself to get close to Widow if he knew she was on a timer. Sombra didn't believe that she needed to tell him, it wouldn't really have changed anything.

"Maybe it'll help you decide what you want her to be in your life" She whispered before straightening her posture, and making her way out the room. "I have some business to attend to. I'll uh...leave you to reflect on what I said"

Sombra felt dirty, unusually sincere for once. But...the situation called for it. She left the house, Reaper and Widow on her mind. As for Reaper, he sat down at his table and thought about all that was said to him.

 _"She's dying...?"_ He thought. _"...she can't be dying..."_

Widow didn't appear ill, or in pain. In fact, she always looked just fine. She had some wounds right now, but they would heal...slowly due to her physiology, but surely. No one would think she was dying at first glance.

 _"Dying..."_

He had never felt so emotional in all his life since Overwatch fell.

* * *

Reaper quietly entered his living room, where he saw Widowmaker sleeping soundly on his couch. She didn't need to sleep much due to her slower metabolism, but even she got tired at some points. Reaper didn't need to sleep at all, his whole body was just particulates that could form and reform...he didn't really have a physiology anymore.

 _"Mercy fucked up"_ He thought.

He quietly approached Widow, her blue skin illuminating in what little light was in the room from the window. He could hear the children outside, knocking on doors and demanding treats, or else a trick. He never answered his door, of course...and the children never actually did trick him as a consequence. The phrase of "trick or treat" had lost its semantic meaning, and has become something pragmatic.

As if she belonged to him, he couldn't help but reach out to her with his hand and rest it on her chest. He felt out for her heartbeat...and found himself waiting...and waiting...

...

...

...

...

Ba-dump!

And as if he activated something, he felt a cold hand be placed over his, and her bright yellow eyes looked into his.

"Hello, mon cherie" Widow whispered with a small smile. "Checking on me?"

Reaper crouched down, going on his knees at her side. She sat up and looked down at him, still clutching his hand. They simply remained silent for a good while, until Reaper finally spoke up.

"I was wrong" He admitted, touching her face. "You can feel. You can feel so much more than I thought you could...Widow...Amélie..."

She often didn't like being called that name...hated it, even...but oddly enough, it was satisfying to hear right now. Comforting.

"You really do bring out a soft spot in me" Reaper said with a forced laugh.

She simply remained silent, watching him with a faint look of happiness...and then even she couldn't stop pouring her cold heart out to him. The moment called for it.

"Gabriel..." She spoke, savouring his name.

But Reaper has had enough of talking. He was tired of just...pretending that these feelings didn't exist. So he kissed her, without warning and without buildup. He just simply pressed her mouth against hers. Widow remained still and allowed him to continue, but it wasn't long before she closed her eyes and grabbed on to whatever part of him she could, placing as much force on him as he did her.

Reaper stood, picking Widow up by her lower-back and leg, still kissing her as they held onto each other. Her cold tongue was slipping against his own, her blue skin chilling, her breath like ice...yet despite all that, warmth was all Reaper could feel.

He sat on his couch, her sitting on his legs...and they finally stopped smooching. Widow raised her arms up, reaching for her hair and loosening it from its ponytail fashion. She shook her head, letting her long blue hair run free from her scalp. She...really was a beautiful woman.

"Je veux que vous me faites sentir comme une femme..." She whispered in a thick accent as she stroked his hair.

French...the language of love. Widow certainly knew how to use her native tongue effectively.

"I don't know what you said..." Reaper muttered. "...but it sounded sexy as hell..."

He wrapped his arms around her torso and squeezed, making her squeak ever so slightly. She was cute...he was realising just how precious she was to him.

"Ouais?" She said, liking his approval and beginning to whisper in his ear. "Je veux que tu me baises vraiment dur..."

Not a word was understood, but he could tell what she wanted. She placed her hands on his chest and continued on kissing, pushing him back and lying on him, touching every part of him as he did the same. When they separated briefly, Widow reached into the small satchel that was strapped to her leg, and pulled out a condom. She showed it to him, a grin on her face that he had never seen before.

 _"Sombra better stay outside"_ Reaper thought. _"Things are about to get hot"_

* * *

Widowmaker lay naked on the couch next to Reaper, her back against his chest. She was smiling, and stroking the arm that was around her stomach. She had a great night...and the best part about it, was that she didn't have to kill her mate this time. This time, she really could just...enjoy the moment. She hadn't been able to do this since Gerard died.

"I needed that..." She said with a chuckle. "Really...eases some tension"

Reaper was feeling a little glad that Sombra got him to man up, because admittedly...he had a lot of fun too. His enjoyment often came from killing, so this...was a nice change of pace.

"You should probably be getting back to Talon, hm?" He supposed. "Unless you want to rest for a while longer?"

It was a tempting offer, but Widow stood up and started dressing herself. She faced Reaper and just smiled at him as she restyled her hair into a long ponytail again before slipping into her outfit. When Reaper stood up, a cloud of blackness surrounded him, and his clothes formed once more.

"We uh...probably shouldn't mention this to Sombra" He said. "She'll just make fun of us for it"

"I don't mind" Widow said as she collected her equipment from the table, placing her Infrasight visor on her forehead and slipping her gauntlet back on. "There's nothing wrong with some harmless sex"

Supposed she was right.

"Have you seen my rifle?" She asked as she looked around the room. "I left it with you before...do you have..."

Wait...did he forget to bring it with him? It was possible, he would've been more concerned with her wounds, she could've left it back on Nepal...

"Mon dieu, I think I-"

"Relax, it's right...here..." He told her as he surprisingly slipped his hand down her cleavage, and then pulled the weapon out from her, then gestured to it with a chuckle. "It's funny what you can find in between a woman's breasts. Especially the ones I was just face-deep in"

Widow pouted, then took her weapon from him. Reaper could pull weapons out from anywhere, but that was just abusing his power.

"Very funny" She sighed.

When she was geared up, Widow and Reaper stood outside together in the night. There were small groups of children walking on the streets, dressed in many interesting costumes. Witches, skeletons, mummies, vampires, ghosts...

Widowmaker watched them silently. She watched them being happy, laughing and shrieking amongst themselves. She watched them for so long.

Reaper noticed her apparent fascination with them.

"Do you like children?" He asked.

To this question, she did not answer. She continued looking on silently.

"I once had my own child" She said eventually spoke without turning her head. "Mine and Gerard's. It was something I wanted for a long time, something that was going to be my whole world..."

And she did one night conceive. But unfortunately, it was the same night that she killed Gerard in his sleep.

"When I killed my husband, I went back to Talon with a full womb" She went on. "And, well..."

She looked at her arm, her blue skin.

"When I was genetically modified, the baby didn't stand a chance. Cyanosis made a miscarriage inevitable"

The day she lost her baby was the day that Amélie Lacroix died forever, replaced with the ruthless assassin that was Widowmaker. Her mind was twisted, and what she experienced changed her. But even previous feelings of her past life found their way into her today.

"I'm sorry to hear that" He respectfully shared sympathy.

He remembered when Gerard regular discussed to his fellow agents about having a family with his wife. To hear Widow's side of the story, the result of what happened...it saddened him. But still, Widow's emotional state was as it always was. She didn't cry...she couldn't cry. Sometimes Reaper wished she could, just so he could hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay...that he'd love her, she'd love him, and they'd live happily alongside each other...that she didn't have two years left to live...that she had plenty of time left...

"It's okay, it was just something I wanted to tell" She said, finally turning to face him. "That's what I like about you, Reaper...you always listen"

She looked out to the night sky, to see the bright stars. Then back to Reaper.

"Well, I should probably get going" She decided, taking a small step forward. "Adieu, Reaper"

She reached out to him, hesitated, then planted a kiss on his mask. She then got going, walking from him in her own direction. Reaper watched her leave, and even when she was out of sight, he remained where he stood for quite a while.

He was tempted to try and catch up with her, perhaps offer his company while she returned to Talon, made sure she'd make it just fine with her injuries...but no, he stayed where he was.

 _"Adieu"_

* * *

Reaper quietly entered his dark home again, his clawed hand having some difficulty letting go of the knob of his door. When he brought himself from it and went into the living room, his movement seemed pained and he couldn't think very straight.

 _"Widowmaker"_

Her smiling blue face was burrowed into his brain, the sounds of her happy moans when they made love found themselves repeating in his ears, the touch of her cold lips were still on his mouth...and it made him feel pleased. He never realised how much he cared for her, despite all her flaws and issues...to him, she was perfection. Something to never let go of.

Today was an epiphany for him. A very beautiful one.

But then he remembered.

 _"Reaper, Gabriel...Widowmaker is dying"_ He heard Sombra in his head say again.

And he almost stumbled over. He took a step, his leg wobbly, and supported himself on a wall.

 _"They estimated she would last eight years...that was six years ago"_

Widowmaker wasn't long for this world. In Talon's eyes, she was an asset to replace once the time called for it...it's all she was meant to be. But to Reaper...to him, it was a whole other story. Didn't used to be, but now...

"No...Widow..." He whispered out her name, his leg about to give up on him. "...Amélie..."

She would be gone, one day...sooner than he'd want. And when she was, the world would move on as if nothing happened. The world, everyone...except him. Even Sombra would quickly get over her...but not him...

"Amélie..." He called out again, going on his knees next to the coffee table.

He removed his mask, and wiped his face back with his hands. He clutched on to his scalp, his clawed fingers digging into his decaying flesh and making him bleed...but it didn't hurt more than knowing the fate of his beloved. His beautiful, imperfect yet perfect beloved...

She had already been lost to one lover, he didn't want to have to be her second.

"Amélie..." Reaper said again, his tone cracking and giving away to sobs. "Don't ever go..."

He released his head and couldn't help but grab a hold of one of the legs of his coffee table, and violently flipped it over, trashing it with force. His movements became erratic, confused...

 _"Maybe it'll help you decide what you want her to be in your life"_

He knew what he wanted her to be, but he didn't think she had enough time left for them to make the most out of it. Time...was limited for her...and she didn't even know it.

He supported himself with his hands on the floor, but he couldn't stop himself from exploding in grief. Something he hadn't done in years. Widow was slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Amélie..."

Blue skin.

"Amélie..."

Yellow eyes.

"Uaaargh..."

Blue hair.

"N-no...no..."

It would all be gone from him, someday. And when it was...

...he would be alone again.


	6. The Past And Present

Gabriel Reyes sat at his desk, using his computer to produce a 3D model of McCree, designing a uniform for him. He had worked on it for several hours, working to make it right for him. It was a process he was familiar with, as he took the liberty of creating the Halloween costumes for his fellow Overwatch agents in the past. He was a great craftsman, and they were often so impressed with his work that they expressed their interest in having him create their actual uniforms. He was flattered and humbled, and dismissed their wish...yet...here he was. Creating the third uniform for his friends, after Angela and Torbjorn.

 _"He likes the Wild West themes, maybe I should add a cowboy twist"_ He thought.

Yes...maybe he could add a cloak of some sort, and a hat with shells strapped on? Jesse would like that. Reyes though...he wasn't a fan of such flashy things. A simply hoodie would do him just fine, but the others were more dramatic...however he was happy to oblige them.

 _"The vest should fit with his bionic arm"_ He said to himself as he studied his generated model. _"Shouldn't have the cloak be too loose and distracting"_

He sipped from the mug of coffee at his side, and his eyes caught the attention of all the photos on his wall. Pictures with him and McCree, or him and Mercy, or him and Jack, Ana...and so on. The occasions in which they were taken were different, whether it be Halloween, Christmas or Thanksgiving. Many years of memories, all hanging on his wall.

It offered a certain amount of motivation in his work, and he smiled to himself as he continued modelling.

* * *

Those pictures were no longer on that wall. The memories were gone, and in many ways, so was the man who once hung them. Reaper sat at the desk, tapping a keyboard with his pointy clawed hands...but still modelling, and producing a new costume.

 _"She's quite tall, need to make sure it's long enough on the legs"_ He thought. _"And to make sure there's adequate space for her waist"_

A costume for Widowmaker. That's what he was making now. The assassin was often sent on many covert missions, and it was bad for Talon if she became a recognisable figure. With her blue skin and yellow eyes, it was quite hard to accomplish that without excessive makeup.

But the task of creating her clothes for the operations came down to Reaper. He offered to do it, of course. He was passionate about his textile work.

 **"Modelling more stuff, huh?"** Sombra asked as she entered the room and stood behind Reaper, slapping his shoulders. **"Oh, for your girlfriend no doubt!"**

 **"Sombra, what do you want?"** He demanded to know, already sick of her presence. **"And she's not my girlfriend. Just because we both don't find your little pranks amusing, doesn't mean there's anything going on between us"**

Too many times, Sombra has forcibly placed her own shipping agenda on them. She seemed to have a fascination of trying to bring them together. Instead she often just made things awkward. Reaper couldn't see Widowmaker as anything more than a friend...and maybe that was pushing it, because he didn't know if Widowmaker liked anyone at all. He had too much respect for Gerard to have a relationship like that with her. Even if he was dead, and it had been years since that day. It just wouldn't have felt right.

 **"Hacking losers on the internet can sometimes get boring even for me, was curious to see what you're doing"** She replied. **"But I get it, you're doing hard work"**

Reaper took a lot of care in textiles, and he was able to produce some high-quality suits and outfits. He even put together Sombra's clothes. A lot the time, his palette of colour consisted almost entirely of black, purple and grey. It was an edgy thing.

 **"Been doing this for years, it's not hard...its just..."** He began. **"Time-consuming. Gotta get it all perfect"**

Perfecting his crafts in textiles was a quality he prided himself in, when he saw the smiles of his friends when he showed them their Halloween costumes...it was always worth it.

 **"Perfect clothes for her, eh?"** Sombra nudged him, then placed a picture she found in front of him. **"This was in your drawer along with all the other photos you gave stuffed away. Not creepy at all"**

It was a picture of Amélie, along with her husband Gerard. Their wedding photo.

 **"It serves as a constant reminder to the past, nothing more"** Reaper told her, unamused as he stopped working for a moment. **"Now there's the door. Leave, so I can finish up here"**

Sombra decided to let him have his way and be a grumpy edgelord. She left the picture where it was, and went about her business elsewhere.

 _"Widow will be here soon"_ She thought. _"I bet Gabriel changes his tone immediately when he sees her"_

Being left in peace, Reaper was about to return to sticking and modelling. Instead however, his eyes trailed onto the photo of happy memories...and soon they were fixed to it. He picked it up, studied it further...then sighed and put it down.

 _"A constant reminder"_

* * *

At a gathering on the thirsty-first of November, Gabriel Reyes chuckled as he conversed with Angela. He was donning the well-crafted costume of a vampire, complete with fang too. Angela was wearing witch-attire, as she did nearly every Haloween. Torbjorn was a Viking, Ana was a ghoul, Lena was a zombie. All their costumes were made by him, and he was glad to see his handiwork was receiving very positive feedback.

 **"It must've taken you so long"** Angela said as she handled his oversized collar. **"And you went through it all for us, as you do every year. Thank you, Gabriel"**

She kissed him on the cheek, and he nodded with a smile.

 **"My pleasure"** He said as she went off to socialise.

Things were not all that pleasurable though. Winston and Jack were also present for the party, but the mood between them was already fouled. Gabriel had not made them costumes, because there were grudges between him and them. While it wasn't evident for now considering this was meant to be a friendly gathering, it still felt awkward for them.

 **"Quite a gathering you've helped spruce up..."** A man with a French accent said to him. **"...bonjour, Gabriel"**

Reyes turned to see Gerard, and his wife Amélie, approaching him as they held hands. He didn't see the two that often, but the married couple often made sure they were present for these events. While Amélie was not a member of Overwatch, Gerard often insisted she come. She was friends with some of the people here, after all.

 **"If it makes everyone happy, it's all worth it"** Gabriel insisted. **"But how have you been, Gerard? It's been some time"**

The man nodded.

 **"Yes, too long"** He agreed, then turning to his darling. **"Amélie, why don't you go chat some folks up? Wouldn't want to bore you with Overwatch details"**

Likely hearing his request, Lena approached Amélie from behind and placed her arm around her shoulder, walking her off.

 **"Hey luv, enjoying the party?"** The Brit asked as they wandered away. **"That's a lovely shirt you're wearing, what's the make?"**

Gerard smiled then turned back to his companion, and they began walking together, a little ways from the others for some discretion.

 **"Talon operations are growing more consistent"** He began with a lowered tone. **"Many attempts have been made on my life, also. It seems they are now aware that I am leading the charge against them"**

That was rather troubling news to Gabriel. Talon was known by Overwatch to be one of the most discreet yet deadly terrorist organisations. Gerard had undertaken a very dangerous role, but thankfully his efforts have been a success.

But still, Gabriel was rather uncomfortable at the risks still present for him.

 **"You've done more than enough, Gerard"** He told him. **"You should step down, let me and Blackwatch take over the fight against Talon"**

 **"Why?"** Gerard asked.

Gabriel looked back at Amélie, who was laughing as she talked with Lena.

 **"You have obligations"** He said. **"You have a wife-"**

 **"Yes, Ana has told me this before"** Gerard interrupted. **"I understand your concern, my friend. However, no one understands Talon better than I do, and I know I'm getting closer to putting a stop to them...I simply need more time"**

Mr Lacroix was clearly determined in his fight against Talon, and wasn't going to quit until he saw it through until the end.

 **"I can assure you, my dear Amélie will not wake up one day to find herself a widow"** He made clear. **"I intend to make our marriage a long one"**

The husband looked over to his wife. She was gorgeous. He loved her, very much. Amélie strengthen his determination to make the world a better place.

 **"She wants to start a family"** He said softly. **"She's still so young, only twenty-five...yet it's what she wants. I had to keep her from leaping on me in bed last night"**

The two men chuckled, then Gerard sighed. It seemed this conversation had shifted from the important topic of Talon, to his wife.

 **"One day, I'm going to give her that family"** He promised in a murmur.

The planning, the future that he saw before him, it placed hope in Gabriel. He was happy for Gerard and his wife.

 **"But if I'm wrong? If I really do end up dead one day..."** Gerard theorised. **"You would look after her, wouldn't you Gabriel?"**

Reyes looked at Gerard, then slowly back at the man's wife. He was already occupied with McCree most the time, but...

 **"Let's hope it never comes to that"** He said. **"Besides, I can feel it in my gut. You two are going to be very happy together, my friend"**

Gerard smiled. And before long, they went back to focussing on the gathering. With their friends and family. With Angela and Lena and Torbjorn and Wilhelm and Ana...

With all of them.

* * *

Those happier days were gone, of course.

Gerard never got that family with Amélie. Talon really did catch up with him one day, and they dealt with him in such a way that none of Overwatch know the true nature of what occurred even to this day. They all think that Amélie did it willingly, that she wanted it...or that perhaps she never loved Gerard in the first place and was a Talon agent the whole time. To them, she was a traitor...just like Reaper.

 **"It's quite impressive, Reaper"** Widowmaker said with hint of delight as she took the recently-finished costume from the craftsman who made it for her. **"Thank you for making this for me"**

She held out the outfit before herself. It was black and red, with small metal decorations on the arms and legs. It certainly looked very different from the rest of her wardrobe, which consisted of the same suit she always wore...but merely in different colours.

 **"I hope it fits you"** Reaper said as he watched her place the suit against her body to check size. **"I couldn't exactly take any measurements or anything"**

 **"You could've"** She informed him. **"I would've let you, I mean"**

He shook his head. Oh boy, Sombra would find a way to blow it out of proportion if she saw Reaper placing measuring tape around Widow's waist or thighs.

 **"Hm"** He hummed as he looked at her.

Every single time he saw Widowmaker, all he saw was Amélie. She didn't act like her at all, but this WAS the same woman that Gerard planned so many hope-inducing things with. Yet they were not to be. To know, that this numbed lady once someone else's sweetheart...

 **"Anyways, thank you again...it's a lovely gift"** Widow said. **"Do you...want to go out later? Perhaps have a drink or just...walk?"**

Her offer was unusual for her. It...didn't sound right. Maybe she felt she owed Reaper for the work he did for her.

 **"Why? You know you're not fit for public appearances"** Reaper told her. **"Or...for normal things in general"**

 **"Well, Sombra...she-"**

Bingo. Sombra probably told Widow that Reaper has a massive crush on her (which wasn't true anyways) and now the assassin has been softened up by Reaper's presenting of a new choice for her wardrobe. She feels she needs to repay his kindness.

But Reaper doesn't want anyone's kindness.

 **"Sombra is a master deceiver, Widowmaker"** Reaper stated over her. **"Don't trust everything she says"**

 **"So...no?"**

Reaper paused for a moment.

 **"...no"** He confirmed. **"But thank you for asking"**

Thank you? She hasn't done anything. She was the one thanking him.

 **"I look forward to wearing it on my next mission"** She said with a nod, folding up the outfit. **"Good to see some things don't change, I suppose"**

She was referring to the old Overwatch days. Even after dying and becoming a very different man, Reaper's stitching and threading hand was still in point.

 **"Only some things..."** He muttered. **"But that was a different life for me. For me...and for you"**

Very different for her.

 **"Yes..."** She slowly nodded. **"Though I...somewhat miss the get-togethers. Those were always fun"**

A basic housewife among the world's greatest heroes? Being married to an Overwatch agent had its benefits.

 **"I can't imagine they'd be much fun for us, anymore"** Reaper supposed. **"Changed relationships and all"**

Reaper and Widowmaker were enemies to Overwatch now. Reaper had a vengeance against them, and Widowmaker...was a victim of circumstances. But everyone doesn't know that, Ana especially.

 **"Yes, you're right"** She agreed. **"Hm, do you remember the time Lena got intoxicated and tried to kiss me in front of Ge-"**

Widow stopped. She was about to delve into a more...sensitive part of history regarding herself. She had good memories, but the good memories often led to the bad ones. And she would rather not remember the bad ones.

 **"Never mind"** She muttered. **"I should get going. Thank you once more, I'll see you soon?"**

Reaper looked at her in silence. If he just adjusted her skin tone and the colour of her eyes in his head...he got Amélie. It's quite amazing what neural reconditioning can do, because Widowmaker was hardly like the woman he saw at those parties with Gerard.

Amélie was sweet, and was the kind of person you could easily approach and have a nice conversation with.

Widowmaker was...cold. The spirit that she once had? It had been ripped out of her...and this was what was left.

Gerard asked Reaper to look after his wife should he die. It became apparent to him that he really was obliging that request, to this day. Now, Widow was perfectly capable of handling herself...but everyone needs a little support. Reaper was the only person she could really communicate with outside of the assignments they had together. She had no social time, it was all work for her.

 **"Sombra brought this to my attention earlier"** Reaper started as he pulled out a small photo, delaying her leave. **"I figure you should have this"**

He handed her the picture, and she looked at it with interest...then with surprise...then Reaper watched her face go blank, before she lowered the picture from her eyes and sighed. The photo of her wedding day, one of the most important days of her life...her old life.

 **"Where did you get this?"** She asked quietly without making eye contact, looking down at her feet.

 **"It came under my possession after...Gerard died"** He explained, wary of mentioning her husband. **"We thought you had been kidnapped again, I decided to hold on to it for you. I suppose it's something that took a while to get around to doing...but when I saw what you had become, I wasn't sure you'd want it"**

And he could tell that she didn't like the memory being returned to her. It seemed he reopened an old wound. Still, she took another look at the photo and this time for a longer period. She absorbed her appearance, of that white dress styled after a bird, her long brown hair, her smile...you'd swear she wasn't even the same person.

 **"It was probably the best day of my life"** She said in the form of a whisper. **"Hm...I remember the wedding kiss we shared, the cutting of the cake, the petals being thrown at us..."**

She chuckled and closed her eyes. As she remembered more, they hurt more. Again, good memories lead to bad ones...

 **"The photo is better in your hands than mine"** Reaper told her. **"I have no right to hold on to this...so take it"**

Widow just stood there for a good while. Eyes closed and in contemplation. She taught herself to forget things like this, but it was hard to not think about. Yet, she found herself taking another look at the photo...and then caressed it with an affectionate stroke of a finger. Gerard was so handsome...

But she snapped herself out of it.

 **"No..."** She finally said. **"You keep it"**

She offered him the picture, but he was hesitant.

 **"But...it's yours"** He reminded her. **"Your wedding, your life, your...memories"**

 **"Only a bad one now, I'm afraid"** She shook her head, and further insisted he take the photo. **"Seeing Gerard only reminds me of the night I had to kill him. And that...is something I'd rather forget"**

He finally did take the photo, reluctantly. He really felt Widowmaker should have it...but he understood her reasons. He kept hold of his old memories in order to not forget them...to learn from them. Widow, though? She just plain wanted to forget.

And when she turned to make her leave, he had to ask a question.

 **"Do you manage to forget?"** He said to her back.

Widowmaker stopped. She seemed to think to herself for a moment, then looked over her shoulders to him.

 **"No"** She replied simply, yet miserably. **"I think about it every night"**

That was when she started walking, out of his workroom and soon out of his house. Reaper was left with the photo, left to look at it and think of the lesson that it was meant to teach him.

 _"There is no hope"_ He thought. _"Overwatch accomplished nothing"_

Another Omnic Crisis was coming, after all.

* * *

Amélie Lacroix woke up in the middle of the night, lying in bed, wrapped in her sleeping husband's arms. Her face was heavy with content, and she simply...enjoyed the warmth of his hold. However, as if remembering something she forgot to do, her eyes widened and suddenly her face appeared empty inside. Her breathe turned from a relaxed pace to no pace at all, holding to keep her very lungs from shifting. She was like a statue, and was still for what seemed like forever.

Eventually however, she began to shift. She squirmed in Gerard's arms, loosening herself from him carefully, wary not to disturb him. When his warm hold was gone, she sat up and simply looked at him...she looked at the hopes and dreams that she wanted to have with this man...and knew that it would all be gone soon.

Amélie leant over, and kissed him on the head. Her hand stroked across his chest as she rose again, and then stood up. On the small table next to their bed, she looked at the pregnancy tests which read positive...it put a small smile on her face. But that smile faded, because now she knew what she had to do. She didn't know why she had to do it...but she just knew it had to be done. She had no choice. This is how it has to be.

So she quietly went on the floor, and reached under the bed. She felt a cold, metal object, and when she stood again, she was holding a knife in her hands. Her brown eyes studied Gerard for a while longer, and with no hesitance or any sign of confliction, she rose her weapon of choice over the man's heart.

 **"The enemies of Talon will be eliminated"** She whispered.

And from that point on, her life was to never be the same again.


	7. What Is Lost

**AUTHOR'S NOTE- After reading the latest comic, I was left almost in tears. Even though it was mostly celebratory in nature, seeing Widowmaker and Reaper all alone on Christmas Day made me upset. So I had to do this. It's short, but I hope you like it.**

 **Thanks.**

* * *

Christmas Eve.

At night. You walk through dark alleys, for it is the only place where you find comfort. You do not want to be seen. You do not want to be in the crowds.

The crowds.

The crowds of smiling parents, of kissing couples, of laughing children...of happy families.

Families.

Of which you have **NONE**. You lost yours long ago. You tore it apart yourself, because you were jealous. Sometimes you regret it. On nights like this, you definitely do.

And as you watch one particular happy family from the darkness, you can only think:

 _"Why can't I have this?"_

You miss it. You miss it **ALL**. But you cannot admit it, because that would be the weak thing to do. You cannot be weak.

But deep inside, you know you **ALREADY** are.

 ** _Reaper watched the busy streets for a while longer, then turned to go deeper into the shadows where he belonged._**

* * *

In your favourite bar.

You smile to yourself as you fiddle with your phone. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a funny sight as a man falls drunkenly asleep on the table. You take a sip of your drink as you continue messaging your best friend.

Your best friend, who happens to control all of Russia. The thought of that makes you chuckle. As you tap away, organising the next time you meet with your best friend, your **MIND** trails elsewhere.

Your mind trails to your acquaintances. You think about how they are doing, you're curious to know what they are doing. It makes you **SAD**.

It makes you sad because you already know what they are doing. They aren't having fun, they aren't...enjoying the season. The season that only comes once a year, the time where they should be making the most of it.

No, they are doing what they do every year, which is **NOTHING**. It makes you say to yourself:

 **"They're so lonely..."**

Because that's the reason why they do nothing. It sorta makes you feel guilty. Then again, would they even appreciate your company? They seem more irritated at you than anything.

Regardless, you sigh, take another, longer sip, then start tapping away once more at your phone.

 _ **Sombra looked at the sleeping man again. He stank of loneliness. It made her feel somewhat lonely too**._

* * *

Christmas morning.

It's the same time you do this for every year, after all. At the same place.

The same place, where you lay that rose. Where you contemplate your life. Where you wished, more than any other time, that you were **DEAD**. Where you consider pulling out your gun and ending your misery on the very spot.

The very spot where you mourn, every year. For **HIM**.

Him. Who promised you so much, who you had so many dreams to share with.

Dreams, of which yours now only consist of the night you killed Him. The night you robbed yourself of your own life.

Your life, which is now in control of terrorists. You barely find enough time to do this, you know they wouldn't approve.

You know you must obey them.

But something makes you not obey. Even if only for a brief time...so you can be with Him. So you can tell him:

 **"I love you, Gérard"**

You **ALWAYS** did.

 ** _Widowmaker stood, barely feeling the cold snow falling on her shoulders. She feels a single drop fall from her eye, but only one. She does not notice, because she has forgotten what crying feels like._**

* * *

Sombra walked through the streets, thick with snow. Typically, she was still tapping on her phone, trying to pay attention to her path or risk bumping into someone. She was wiping away the wet snow on her screen, trying to bring up her contacts. She was trying to do so quite desperately, she wouldn't feel right until she sent her messages.

Reaper, know to her contacts as Gabby The Edgelord. She sent him a text, filled with hearts and emoticons. She wished him well, to have a Merry Christmas. She asked if he wanted to spend some time together at a specified time:

 **Sombra** \- Hey Gabe ❤️

 **Sombra** \- Merry Christmas :)

 **Sombra** \- Wnt to gt together? Go out to eat? See a movie? Anythin you wnt ❤️

...

...

 **Gabby The Edgelord** \- This isn't a trick, is it?

 **Sombra** \- No just want to hang out ❤️

 **Gabby The Edgelord** \- Very well. See you back at the home.

Sombra already felt better, knowing that perhaps she was going to make someone's day just a little better. Of course, she couldn't leave out their favourite sniper. So, with difficulty, she cleared her wet screen of more snow and brought up another contact.

Widowmaker, known to her contacts as A Literal Smurf. Like Reaper, Widowmaker's received messages were just as lovely. Rather flirtatious, actually. Because Sombra knew she could get away with being chummy to someone who was apparently dead inside.

 **Sombra** \- hope ur not too busy killn peeps, good-lookin ;)

She bit her lip. Maybe that was too suggestive...no, no, she should've said...

 **A Literal Smurf** \- I am visiting the grave of my dead husband, Sombra.

Ouch. Sombra was going to compliment her butt, but it didn't look like the time to do that. Sombra took a good minute typing her next message, having deleted it and retyped it about ten times.

 **Sombra** \- sry. What I mean to say, is Merry Christmas :)

Widowmaker often took no time in typing her messages despite her perfect grammar. Unlike most others, she didn't feel hesitance in wording her texts right...she just...typed them without second thoughts. She probably didn't care about how someone might possibly perceive her texts.

But this was different, because this took a good thirty seconds for her to reply. The longest Sombra had ever seen from her.

 **A Literal Smurf** \- Thank you.

That feeling Sombra had in her heart, amongst all those cybernetic implants? It was gladness.

 **Sombra** \- so u want to meet up with me and Reaps? Promise no mistletoe this time!

Ah yes, the incident of last year. Reaper tried his odds and used the "mistletoe above the head" trick on Widowmaker. Unfortunately the assassin must have mistaken it for Mistlefoe, because Reaper ended up getting a palm in his face...maskless. Remembering it made Sombra chuckle.

 **A Literal Smurf** \- Talon will probably need me today, so I must prepare my equipment. I must decline your offer.

Oh no, Sombra wasn't having any of that. She would get Widow's fine butt over, even if she had to hack Talon's entire communications and database. That would keep them busy for the day, for sure. No Widow required, then.

 **Sombra** \- cant u forget work? Not even 4 Christmas? :(

 **A Literal Smurf** \- This day does not have a great significance to me.

 **Sombra** \- thts why u make me sad

 **A Literal Smurf** \- Are you done, Sombra?

 **Sombra** \- pls come i cnt stand knowing that ur all alone on Christmas :(

 **A Literal Smurf** \- Alone is all I have been for six years. I can handle seven.

 **Sombra** \- u have me tho

 **Sombra** \- reaper too

 **Sombra** \- i jst wanna hug you

 **Sombra** \- reaper doesnt have to see

 **Sombra** \- do you like croissants?

 **Sombra** \- widow?

 **Sombra** \- Blue Pepe?

 **Sombra** \- ;_;


	8. Lonely

**"Are you sure you can manage on your own?"**

Sombra swiped away the call she received from Reaper to one side, while she managed about what seemed like four other virtual documents at once. She was used to this, multitasking was a given talent she developed being a hacker. Not just any hacker mind you, the best damn hacker on the planet.

 **"I pay half the bills, Gabe"** She reminded him. **"Relax, your edgy house isn't gonna get burnt to the ground"**

Not that she'd be too bothered with that. It would mean they'd get a new house, preferably one that wasn't pitch black all over. Unfortunately for Sombra, she wasn't there for the initial purchase of the property, so Reaper had plenty opportunity to give it the makeover he wanted.

 _"Jet black...and sometimes, really dark grey"_ She thought.

But when she moved in, they split the costs...but it still seemed like Reaper was the boss of the place. The only piece of the house that wasn't literal darkness was her own room. Sombra's room was full of technology, and it was hardly organised. Laptops, tablets, cables...they littered the place. On the wall, she had a screen to watch the holovision, and see all the latest news.

Yup, technology was her life.

 **"Very well, I'll call you regularly to see how you're doing"** Reaper told her. **"Until then, I'll see you in a week"**

Sombra nodded, and hummed a response as she continued working. Reaper was going to be gone for a while, busy on an important job for a different client that wasn't Talon for once. Being a mercenary, he had no true allegiance...it just so happened that Talon shared many of his interests.

She didn't show it, but it was going to be relatively interesting to be the woman in charge around here, no Reaper to nag her...that alone was quite exciting.

 **"And remember, Widowmaker is being placed under your service"** Reaper reminded her. **"Talon will want their prized assassin unscathed and to not have her time wasted, so make sure this is a productive week. I don't want you taking leave just because I'm gone"**

 **"Yes, yes. I understand"** She told him impatiently. **"Now, I really am trying to work here...so if there's nothing else?"**

There was a brief pause on the wraith's end.

 **"Farewell, Sombra"** He bid her.

 **"You too, Gabe"** She replied, paying attention to his call and not on her work for a moment.

 **"I know she can handle herself, but...look after Amélie for me"** He asked.

She sighed and shook her head, returning to her work.

 **"Relax, I'll look after your girlfriend for you"** She told him.

 **"She's not my girlfriend"** He replied.

 **"Hah, sure she's not"** She muttered, with a hint of envy.

When the call was over, Sombra looked through more intel for a while longer. Then she sighed, lost interest, and rested her chin on her hands, looking up at her wall. Maps, conspiracy documents, and pictures of Katya Volskaya and everyone the woman knew was pinned up.

Gathering intelligence for Talon. That was what she meant to do, but she didn't find it very captivating. In fact, she didn't really share in their goal. Sparking another Omnic Crisis, destroying Overwatch? Sombra didn't care for that...she was after something much more significant.

 _"Who really controls the world?"_ She wondered.

Important figures like Volskaya...even they were tiny in the grand scheme of things. Sombra was thinking big, and it was her alone who thought of this. Reaper had a petty vengeance to fulfil, and Widowmaker simply did whatever she was told because she's freakin brainwashed.

She kept that to herself, however. They were her friends. Or so, she liked to think they were. Aside from them, Sombra had no friends. Never needed them, never really wanted them. But granted, there were times where Sombra felt lonely. She was thirty years old, and never had a relationship in her life. She didn't ever concern herself with a social life. Never found much time for it.

 _"Wow, that's sad"_ She told herself.

She was living quite a lonely life, indeed. At least Reaper had Widow, who did Sombra have? Two freaks were the only ones she could call friends, but even they found each other. She found no one. These days, she sometimes felt like a bit of a third wheel.

It didn't really become that apparent to her until last Christmas. Perhaps that's just the destiny of a Talon operative. Reaper betrayed all his family, Widow killed hers...Sombra just didn't really have any. Like many children after the first Omnic Crisis, she was an orphan.

Hm. She was meant to be concerning herself with the illuminati and similar stuff that most would consider paranoid gibberish. Nope, here she was wondering what it would be like if she just...wasn't so worried about her own personal quest against the world. If she wasn't, perhaps she could've been bedded a few times by now. That would've been nice.

It briefly crossed her mind that perhaps she wasted thirty of her years.

 _"No, no...someone has to be out there, trying to find the answers"_ She told herself. _"And that someone is me"_

Sombra believed that the trade-off was beneficial in the long run. At the same time, she felt like she was suddenly in a race against time. To make up for things she never bothered doing. She was thirty, she wasn't old yet. She still had plenty of time...

And then she took a glance of the documents. Then, all doubt was wiped away. For now.

 _"Nope, gotta focus"_ She thought. _"Reaper told me to be productive, and that's what I'm gonna do"_

* * *

Sombra was sitting at the living room table, shirtless and running a finger across her arm, the tipped ends of her digits prodded against her skin. She was adjusting the cybernetic implants that were embedded within, the things that allowed her to manipulate all technology in the world. It was only at moments like this did she truly feel the tech inside her. It felt...like a rash from within. Granted, she loved her powers, but she could've done without the desire to want to scratch herself from the inside.

Could be a lot worse, though. Reaper was constantly rotting yet regenerating, and Widow's heart barely beat. Compared to them, it seemed she had it easy. And yet despite how much worse their situation seemed, Sombra thought about how their lives played out. Reaper had friends and family, even if he lost it all. Widowmaker had a husband, even if she killed him. Sombra had nothing to lose, because she didn't have anything to begin with.

The first Omnic Crisis made sure of that.

She didn't know if she should feel comforted by that fact...or miserable.

In the middle of her self-procedure, she a loud knocking was heard at the door. Sombra could guess who it was. She stood up, took up a black shirt and slipped it on, then went to the door and opened up. As expected, her favourite spider was standing before her, all dressed in her equipment like she usually was.

 **"Sombra"** She greeted simply. **"I have been paired with you for future operations in the coming week in Reaper's absence. I suppose Talon think getting me more involved with you will prove beneficial"**

Scanning the hacker's attire, it didn't seem a future operation was going to be so soon. She was dressed in a black shirt, and the pants that she often wore with her coat. Quite casual. Seemed she had just taken things easy for today.

 **"Yeah, amigo, I know"** Sombra said as she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. **"Guess you'll be staying here a while, huh? Well, you didn't pack any bags...but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised given who I'm dealing with here"**

Widowmaker had no possessions aside from her mission equipment. Even then, that stuff was technically Talon property.

 _"Widow herself is Talon property"_ Sombra thought.

 **"Well, come on in"** Sombra told her as she stood up and allowed her entry. **"I'm just gathering intelligence for today, but I'm sure I could find something to keep you occupied"**

Widowmaker did not need to be occupied, however. She could spend literal hours sitting idly. As any spider should.

Sombra would learn this the hard way, because for a good hour, Widow sat silently in the living room as Sombra continued looking through documents. It wasn't exactly creepy, it's not like she was staring at her nonstop...

 _"With those bright, yellow eyes"_ Sombra thought, picturing them in her head.

Her own glowing purple eyes made sure not to make eye contact with her regardless, however.

* * *

Sombra sorta pleaded from within that the assassin would say something, but Widow had no incentive to talk as the time passed. That's just the way she was. Frustrating, yet somewhat captivating to the hacker.

So, it was Sombra who was forced to speak up when she couldn't take the awkward silence any more. It was impossible to work under these conditions. The lack of distraction was the biggest distraction of all.

 **"Hey, uh...you hungry by any chance?"** She asked.

Widowmaker shook her head.

 **"Okay, sure. Slow metabolism, yeah? From the...slow heart rate thing, right?"**

She nodded.

 **"Ah, okay. Was just wondering"**

As always, Widowmaker wasn't much for talking.

 **"Well uh, feel free to make yourself comfortable"** She offered. **"You'll be here for a whole week, with little ol' me. Gonna be lovely, I'm sure"**

 **"I suppose I'll take Gabriel's room then"** Widow supposed.

She was...quite familiar with that particular room, after all.

 **"Or sleep with me"** Sombra muttered quietly.

 **"Que?"**

 **"Nothing"** She said passively with a sigh. **"So! You know what I noticed when the three of us get together? It always feels like Reaper takes the charge too much in anything we do. You know why I think that is? Because he has good relations with both you and me, but we don't have that same feeling towards each other"**

Reaper and Sombra were partners for years, and they live together. Widowmaker didn't live with them but she was Reaper's girlfriend all but officially...and they had history, back when their lives were much different.

 _"They're so weird around each other, like...a different kind of weird to what they already are"_ She thought. _"And then there's the obvious times they fucked each other"_

What did Sombra and Widow have together? Sometimes Sombra thought the assassin disliked her. It seemed so since their mission in Russia to assassinate Katya Volskaya. A mission that Sombra intentionally allowed to be a failure.

But, when has Widowmaker ever made her feelings apparent?

 **"It has not occurred to me that this would be a problem"** Widow said.

 **"Ah but it is, my dear spider"** Sombra told her. **"I would say our combat effectiveness would go up if we actually valued each other, wouldn't you say?"**

Widowmaker did not like the idea of making friends. Reaper was technically already a friend since the beginning, but Sombra was a "new" addition to her life. She wasn't meant to be making friends, she was meant to despise everything and everyone, and to do nothing but take orders from Talon. That was her life now. She embraced it.

But she would humour her.

 **"Well then, you can start by making me some coffee"** She said with a slight smile. **"I am your guest after all"**

That's fine. Sombra could do that. She'd make one for herself too, and then she'd have a casual talk with a woman who was dead inside. How many people get to do that? Not many, that's for sure. She wasn't concerned with her work right now, she was more troubled with...god, she couldn't believe she was really concerning herself with it.

She felt lonely.

* * *

A while later, the two Talon operatives were sitting at the table with a beverage each. Sombra wasn't so much focussed on her drink though, she just keep talking and talking as Widow silently sipped.

 **"...and that's the story of how Gabe and I met"** Sombra finished, before realising that she was relatively out of breath. **"Wow, how long was it since my last breathe?"**

She took a deep breathe, and then a mouthful of coffee.

 **"I can last half an hour without breathing, did you know?"** Widow told her, throwing in a fun fact about herself. **"My body has adapted to a low intake of oxygen in its cells"**

Significantly reduced blood flow, therefore significantly reduced demand to oxygenate the blood to begin with. It helps with her sniping, not being required to breath. In fact, that was the whole purpose of her genetic changes, to be unmatched with a rifle.

 **"My body is pretty rad too"** Sombra said as she looked down at herself. **"Sure, I don't look like a corpse like you and Reaps...but I've got some pretty freaky stuff going on here"**

The three of them were freaks, really. Still, perhaps Sombra was the least changed of them all.

 **"Gabriel doesn't look as bad as you make him out to be"** Widow told her. **"And certainly neither do I. The only physical difference between me and anyone else that you can see is that I am blue"**

Sombra rolled her eyes. Of course Widow would defend Reaper's appearance, she was getting a piece of him from time to time. But Sombra knew what she was talking about, Reaper WAS a living corpse. Widow just didn't care because she lost all ability to have preferences about such things. Her standards weren't low, they just didn't exist. She could probably fuck anything if she needed to.

Sombra believed that to be a interesting thought.

 **"Can't say I have necrophilia, Widow"** Sombra said. **"And hey, why does Reaper like you so much? You come waltzing into our partnership and before I know it? He's fucking you. I've known him for a while too, and not once has he ever shown me any signs"**

 **"He does not show signs, Sombra"** Widow informed her. **"Well...not often. We just came to an internal, mutual understanding. And besides, you said it yourself, we are both apparently living corpses. We have more in common"**

Even if so, Sombra wouldn't have minded knowing that she's was being eyed. But nope, Reaper just didn't see her that way. Sombra didn't have a corpse fetish, so she didn't really care.

Now, maybe she could get into smurfs...

 **"Okay, I think I've heard enough"** Sombra sighed. **"An emotionally dead woman with skin that feels like raw turkey is getting more sex than I am. Great"**

Widow shook her head and chuckled lightly before sipping her coffee again. Sex was a relatively big part of what she was: A femme fatale, leading her victims into their death like a spider does. Sombra was a tech expert, she didn't need to do any of that.

 **"And how much sex exactly are you getting, Sombra?"** She asked, curiously. **"You're thirty years old, and you are quite pretty despite the...interesting hair choice"**

Sombra frowned at herself, and found herself twirling her hair in her finger.

 **"I'm not comfortable answering that question"** She muttered.

 **"I see, well if it's truly bothering you then perhaps I should let Gabriel know?"** Widow proposed. **"I'm sure he would find the matter quite amusing"**

 **"Funny"** Sombra sighed, standing up. **"I wonder if it's the implants. Or maybe if it's just that I suck at being social. My whole world has been revolved around technology, I'm a pro at that kind of stuff...no one can find their way around it better than I can"**

But for all the good she was in one area, she was severely lacking in another.

 **"I must say Sombra, I didn't expect to find myself in such a...whole-hearted topic with you"** Widow expressed her surpise. **"I didn't realise that you were longing for such a thing. It doesn't seem like you"**

 **"It's not so much that, it's just...a recent thing that's come to mind"** Sombra said. **"I'm sure it'll blow over. Guess I'm just being paranoid"**

She looked down at herself. The cybernetic implants suddenly felt like they were throbbing inside her, reminding her of what she was. A cyborg, not to the extent of a certain Ex-Overwatch Shimada, but still technically classed as one regardless. At least she still had all her important bits, and it's not like her brain was fiddled with.

 **"Widow, answer me honestly, does this freak you out?"** She asked as she turned around and pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her back to her companion.

Widowmaker looked upon what stuck out most: the metal spine that ran down her back. Small connections embedded in her skin was branching out from it. Sombra shuddered at the feeling of it being eyed.

 **"They called it the central processor"** She explained. **"It lets me use my nervous system to interact with tech...prototype implant, but it worked out quite well for me. Getting it implanted was like getting a tattoo** "

She looked behind herself, looking back at Widow who was studying her.

 **"Does it leave a negative impression on me, you ask? No, not really"** She answered honestly. **"If a man was looking at you now, I believe he would be more focussed on your rear"**

Those pants don't seem to leave much to the imagination when she's not wearing her coat over them. Sombra smiled and then chuckled to herself. She really needed to hear that.

But she didn't care about what some guy would think. Right now, she only cared about what Widow thought.

 **"So, you don't mind, though?"** She asked again, facing her and slipping her shirt on again. **"If you were a lesbian, you'd do me, right?"**

Widow was taken aback by that rather...direct question.

 **"Excuse me?"** She questioned.

 **"You heard me, amigo"** Sombra said. **"Would you go all lesbo with me?"**

Before she could even respond, Widowmaker found Sombra sitting on her lap, her arm around her neck, looking at her with a stupid smirk. It was unusual behaviour from her.

 **"Have you been drinking, at this time?"** Widow asked with a sigh.

Widowmaker knew that Sombra liked her tequila. Now, she wasn't a drunk but...well, there have been a couple instances where she drank a little too much, and caused quite a scene.

 **"Nope, I'm all sober"**

 **"Get off me"**

 **"No"** Sombra said. **"Not until you answer my question"**

Widowmaker took the arm around her shoulders and forced them to let go of her, then she made Sombra look directly at her.

 **"Look into my eyes, Sombra"** She began, coldly. **"This is the look of a woman who kills her lovers in their sleep. The look of a woman who's skin would make you shiver as you lay with her. The look of a woman who's heart you can't even hear beat as you lay your head on her chest. The look of-"**

Talking of herself like she wasn't even Human got difficult even for her. She stopped and closed her eyes, looking down and collecting herself before looking back up at Sombra again, who had dropped the stupid look and replaced it with a one that was willing to listen.

 **"The look of a woman who didn't choose who she became...but just is"** She whispered. "That is why you shouldn't wish for such a thing with me. Now please..."

 **"Aw, pobrecita..."** Sombra remarked as she cupped Widow's chin and made her look up. **"You often have these little, fragile moments...makes me feel so bad for you"**

 **"I don't want your sympathy"** She told her.

 **"No, but you're gonna get it anyways"** Sombra whispered back. **"Do you not sometimes feel lonely, Amélie?"**

Calling her by her real name. A way of showing affection?

 **"What do you think?"** Widow snapped, quietly and weakly.

 **"It's alright, I know how you feel"** Sombra went on, gently, placing her arms around her shoulders again. **"I know you feel most comfortable with Gabe, but...he's not here"**

Closer, the distance between their faces became.

 **"I'm here, though"** She said. **"I'm lonely, and you're lonely..."**

Closer.

 **"And...I think we can help each other with our problems..."**

Closer.

 **"What say you now, Amélie? Can I call you Amélie?"** She asked. **"It's a nicer sounding name"**

Widow lost contact with her eyes momentarily, shook her head slightly...then looked back up.

She nodded. She gave in.

 **"Good"**

Closest.

* * *

Sombra tapped on her phone, at a relaxed pace. While she did that, she was lying naked with her blue friend in bed. As Sombra fiddled with her gadget, Widow was looking up at the roof as if questioning what she just participated in.

 **"Ahh, I really needed that"** Sombra chuckled as she swiped at the screen. **"Did you not have fun?"**

Widowmaker continued looking up, blankly.

 **"It's all the same to me, now"** She muttered. **"It's just another activity"**

 **"Oh, come now...you obviously love having your crotch played with"** Sombra said teasingly, giving her a devious smile. **"I gotta say, your skin feels...very refreshing"**

Widowmaker didn't sweat, her body didn't warm up. Sombra's however, did. So when she touched her, it was like walking into an air conditioner on a hot day. Relieving.

Losing interest in her phone, Sombra ran her hand across Widow's stomach, to the woman's insignia that was tattooed above her waist.

 **"Hm, I think I'll buy you a new tattoo..."** She supposed. **"You'd like that, right? They look good on you. They suit you"**

Widowmaker didn't have her own salary, after all. She wasn't an employee of Talon...she was more comparable to a slave than anything. That made Sombra sad. Widowmaker doesn't even own the clothes on her back, it's all Talon's.

 **"Not even her very being is her own property"** She thought.

She could consider a new tattoo to be a generous gift for the service she just provided for Sombra.

 **"Hm. Well, I did have a few ideas for some canvases..."** Widow said, approving of her offer. **"I always thought my legs could use some ink"**

They mostly involved spider-webs, and more unpleasant words in French.

Sombra was just lost eyeing and touching her body, though. She was just...so perfect. She couldn't help but climb right on top of her, then feeling Widow's breath on her face. It was like an icy chill.

 **"Mm. What you lack in breasts, you make up for with those full lips of yours..."** She went on admiring. **"Some top quality dick-sucking lips, those are"**

That remark got a small chuckle out of her emotionally dead companion. Getting such a close look at her face, Sombra could truly see just how gorgeous she looked...she looked so much prettier when smiling too.

Unfortunately, she rarely smiled.

Sombra also noticed the purple smudges of lipstick on her blue skin. Sombra didn't show her any mercy with her kisses.

 **"I...uh...we have a week to make the most of this"** Sombra said, more professionally. **"I assume you don't want Gabe to know"**

Widowmaker remembered Reaper saying similar words regarding Sombra, once before when they too had sex. Both of them didn't want the other to know they were getting sexual with their favourite smurf, it would seem.

 **"Hm. I'll tell you what I told Gabriel..."** She began. **"It's just some harmless sex. We have no obligations towards each other. Neither of you are my lovers...as love is a two-way passage...and you wouldn't want me to be your lover, anyways"**

 _"Gérard is still in my heart"_ Widow thought.

Oh, right. It was just sex. Sombra forgot. She...for a moment, she convinced herself that she was in love with Widow. And maybe vice versa.

 **"Yeah...yeah, that makes sense"** Sombra agreed, a noticeable disappointment in her tone. **"B-but still, I don't want Gabe to know anyways. It...can be our dirty little secret"**

Widowmaker nodded. Sombra sighed and sat up, sitting at the side of the bed. Widowmaker stood up and began dressing herself.

 **"Back to professionalism, then"** The assassin said, before leaving Sombra in the room.

Now alone, Sombra took some time to think. She then reached under her bed to pull out a shot-glass and a bottle of tequila. She swiftly poured herself a shot and then downed it, shuddering and then putting it away again. Somehow, she suddenly felt even more unsatisfied than before, because now she found herself wanting even more from Widow, something more significant than just her body. But knowing her, getting it would be impossible. Widow's statement on not loving her, on not being able to love her...or anyone...

It made her feel even more alone.


	9. Home

**_Annecy, France._**

Reaper looked up at the large statue of a woman holding an apple. He then turned around to face the town of Annecy with the dusk sky over it, which appeared so far away...this little island on which this castle stood on seemed so very isolated from society.

 _"Perfect for her"_ He thought.

It was a large place, the Chateau Guillard. Even more so for just one owner. It was beautiful however, especially in the Annecy summer. Annecy was where she was born, and now she's home again...at least, as much as home could get. It was certainly better than her living in some science lab. Reaper never liked that, she deserved better...and now she got better. He was living in a basic house, and he knew Sombra lived in some small place in Dorado when she wasn't crashing with him. Widow however...looked like she was getting it better than both of them already. It would take quite a bit of money to renovate this place, it apparently hadn't been home to someone in hundreds of years.

Until now.

He walked past the statue and into the main entrance. There he saw that some renovation had already been underway. Fresh coats of paint were on the walls, cans and ladders were left on the floor...on one of the ladders, he saw a woman humming quietly to herself as she painted, the paint she used almost the same colour as her skin. Blue.

Her humming wasn't a cheerful one. It was long...and sad. It was suiting for her. Her appearance was as casual as he expected from Widow, dressed in her typical jumpsuit and boots but none of the equipment she wore on missions. She looked funny without her Infrasight visor, something about actually seeing her forehead.

 **"Don't get paint on that uniform"** He said, approaching and looking up at her. **"Took me forever to get your measurements right"**

She was surprised, almost falling off and dropping the can of paint hooked on her ladder. She looked down at him. He looked so small down there.

 **"Gabriel...uh, Reaper"** She exclaimed softly, in that chilling voice. **"I wasn't expecting you. I wasn't expecting anyone"**

His presence was indeed a bit of a surpise. He nodded, and she left her work as she climbed down the ladders. She had a bit of work left to do for this room, but she could finish it later. This was just the beginning for the renovations, anyways.

When she was stood in front of him, he presented his gift to her. A bucket of ice, with a wine bottle sticking out.

 **"Oh. Thank you"** She quietly said, taking his gift. **"I'll add it to the collection"**

 **"Collection?"** He replied, curiously.

 **"Yes"** She confirmed. **"My ancestors seemed to have placed many barrels of wine under the chateau. They themselves had a wine business centuries back...hence all the barrels"**

Ah yes, of course. The French are known for their love of wine. He didn't imagine she got to enjoy such a delicacy in a lab, being watched by scientists. Not sure if wine gets better with age though...something about the fruitiness fading...best Widow had a fresh bottle rather than whatever lied below.

 **"So...the Chateau Guillard"** He said the name aloud, taking a good look of the walls and roof. **"And it's all yours. How does that make you feel?"**

She didn't appear so enthusiastic, not that it was a surprise to him. But he was sure she appreciated having a proper place to call home, a place that belonged to her family.

 **"It's...nice to be back in Annecy"** She admitted. **"I haven't been here since..."**

Since she married Gérard and went to live with him in Paris. That wasn't something she liked discussing.

 **"...well, in a long time"**

 **"Have you missed it much?"** Reaper asked.

Widow looked down at her feet, then back up at him.

 **"Yes"** She whispered.

There was a bit of a drawn-out silence between them, before Reaper made himself to speak up.

 **"I'm here to just check on you in person. Sombra is busy but no doubt she'll want to visit sometime too"** He said.

 **"You could've just sent a message. You didn't have to waste time on me"** She told him, somewhat hastily. **"I'm sure you've been busier since being accepted onto the Talon Council, you could've been-"**

 **"Widowmaker, it's fine"** He interrupted her. **"Me being on The Council doesn't mean anything in this case. Maximillian is sending some money your way, you can use it to make renovations...it'll probably be an expensive endeavour for a place as large as this"**

Maximillian was the one sending her the money? Well, she supposed it had to come from someone influential within Talon.

 **"I didn't realise me having a home was a concern of his"** She muttered.

He shrugged, placing his hands behind his back and exploring the hall.

 **"I didn't think you'd need the money, isn't your family rich?"** He wondered. **"They must've been if they own a place like this"**

 **"There's a reason the Chateau Guillard fell into disrepair"** Widow told him. **"Our power waned in the years after the French Revolution. My family live in Annecy still, but not the Chateau since we couldn't afford it. It's always been under our ownership, however"**

Widow herself had no wealth, however. She had a good childhood but she certainly didn't live like a goddess. With all her ties to her maiden family essentially cut off...she had nothing from them. Just this chateau.

 **"I see"** He said, corrected. **"Well, maybe you can tell me more about The Guillards, in a more comfortable room and over that bottle of wine?"**

A smile crept on her face and she chuckled, looking down at the bucket of ice she was carrying. Reaper liked seeing her happy, even if only briefly.

 **"I'd have prepared us some food if I knew you were coming"** She shared some disappointment. **"But there is some place more comfortable. How about a tour, and you can decide for yourself?"**

He liked the sound of that. With a nod, Widow gestured to the big door on the right and they walked in together. It would take some time exploring the entirety of the Chateau.

* * *

A main entrance, a large cellar, a entire balcony outskirt, four different bedrooms, a dining room, a steward's kitchen, a servant barrack and a washing room later, Widowmaker and Reaper found themselves back on the first floor, in the study room. It was a cozy room, with a few seats, a few bookshelf and a large painting on the wall. It seemed Widow had set up her operations here. On a small table was a lamp, a laptop and by that there were crates that contained all her belongings and equipment. The Widow's Kiss was resting on the table too. Widow placed the bucket of ice and wine on the table, and closed the lid of her computer.

 **"Lots of books"** Reaper said, looking at the tall bookshelves.

 **"I'll...go get some glasses?"** Widow supposed, taking her laptop and rifle with her as she walked out for a moment. **"Make yourself comfortable"**

As Reaper was left in the room, he browsed the books. They were all titled in French so he didn't understand what the exact content was. What did French people read in the Seventeenth Century? He imagined they were novels. His eyes were just crossing the numerous books, but stopped when they reached a photo. A photo, of a married couple. A fair bride holding the groom, and him looking at her with a smile.

He recognised the groom as an old comrade of his.

 **"I'm sorry for what happened to you"** Reaper said quietly, reaching out for the photo. **"If only you could be here today...when your wife needs you most"**

He missed him. But what he felt wouldn't come close to what his widow felt.

Reaper's hand retreated when he heard Widow's steps return, and he walked a few paces from the bookshelf. He sat down at the seats under the large painting, and removed his mask, lowering his hood. Widowmaker came back, and placed two wine glasses on the table. She reached for the bottle and began to open it with a corkscrew, then pouring red liquid into the glasses before handing him one.

 **"So...The Guillards..."** She began, sitting down with her glass in hand. **"...were a influential family that owned the wine business in Annecy. The business was quite a thing in those days, it's where all their wealth came from"**

She looked down at her drink, swirled it, and took a sip. She savoured the taste.

 **"Mm. Been so long since I had a good red"** She got slightly side-tracked. **"Anyways, the power of The Guillards faded after the Revolution with the economic collapse. As their wealth dissipated, so did their ability to continue living here..."**

She went on for some time. And Reaper listened to every word, enjoying his own drink. It took a refill each for Widow to get near the end of her little history lesson.

 **"...The Guillards stopped living in this estate. But centuries later they still hold the land. The crest you saw in the Dining Hall? We were Counts to the King"**

Back when royalty was still a thing.

 **"It's thanks to Max's money that I'm even able to live here, I suppose..."** She went on. **"...but I'm not the last Guillard, my parents are still alive...out there, in that little town I grew up in across the lake. I cut all ties with them...I was made to cut ties with them...how did I end up with ownership?"**

These were questions that confused her. She looked to Reaper, as if he knew the answers. Luckily for her, he actually did have the answers. He put his glass down, and leaned forward to her.

 **"I suppose it's best not to hide things from you, even in my higher position as a council member"** He admitted.

Widow looked at him attentively, simply blinking once.

 **"I tracked down your parents"** He told her. **"I told them about their daughter. I told them about Amélie Guillard, and how she needed their help"**

Reaper had done his research. Everything that Widow had told him about the Guillard family, he already knew...he had simply been humouring her. He knew that she had a birthright to the Chateau Guillard, she needed only it be granted to her. It was a better place to live in than that a damn science cell...he could never stand seeing her like that.

He didn't come here just to see if she was settling in her new home, he came to give her some news regarding her family.

 **"This was your idea?"** Widow said, surprised. **"Then...Maximillian's money...?"**

He shrugged.

 **"I'm making good use of my new position"** He said casually.

She sat back, and sipped again. This was something to soak in. It wasn't the money or the chateau that she was concerned with, however.

It was her parents.

 **"What did they say about me?"** She asked quietly, not making eye contact. **"What did they have to say...about the daughter they knew was kidnapped, widowed...and presumed dead?"**

Reaper could see this was starting to get emotional for her.

 **"After everything I told them? They missed her greatly...and they still love her"** He assured her. **"No matter what's happened to her, or what she's become. They're ready to see her, whenever their daughter is ready"**

She looked back at him. His face was deeply serious.

 **"You can't mean it..."**

 **"I do"** He confirmed.

 **"No..."**

 **"Yes"**

 **"No!"**

She stood up, and wandered around the room aimlessly. She then stopped and look right him, he was still sitting and drinking casually, as if he had done her a favour.

 **"Look at me, Reaper..."** She told him, her arms out. **"I'm...something else now. I'm not their daughter...they wouldn't want to see me like this"**

The last time her parents saw her, she was dressed in a beautiful white wedding dress, with her fair skin and brown hair and brown eyes. Now...? She was cold, and blue...she was marked with tattoos symbolising spiders which she feared as a little girl...her eyes were an evil yellow. She wasn't the Amélie they would've known.

 **"Amélie is dead!"** She continued to tell him. **"A...a monster in her place..."**

 **"The woman I once slept with was no monster"** Reaper then reminded her. **"Has she died too?"**

Widow stared at him for what felt like forever, before slowly and silently going to sit back down. She finished her drink, but then poured herself another one. She took one, longer gulp instead of her usual sips.

 **"I can't"** She whispered.

 **"You can"** Reaper continued to fill her with confidence.

 **"I can't!"**

 **"You CAN"** He kept saying, sternly.

He sighed. Perhaps he was coming on too strong. This was a delicate matter for her, he needed to be gentle. But he understood her troubles, more than she knew. He took his seat, and moved it to the other side of the table, much closer to her.

 **"Listen to me, Amélie..."** He began

 **"Please don't call me that"** She begged.

 **"Listen to me, Widow"** He tried again. **"I have a story of my own to tell you. About a man who also had a love..."**

She looked up at him, looking into his eyes. Reaper began to tell a story of a man who loved a woman very much. The man was a soldier and therefore wasn't always around to be with her, but their love was still strong, and they wanted to start a family together. The man had issues in his command however, and one day was forced to choose between pursuing their duty to service or duty to his love. He chose the former, and would one day die...leaving her without children and without any token of love.

Death didn't stop him, however. Instead, he became death. He was consumed with the life of war...when he eventually found the heart to try and return to the life of love...what she saw was unrecognisable. Now, when he sees that woman he loved...he sees her with another man that could have been him. With children that could have been his.

His would-be family no longer recognised him.

 **"That man really did become a monster"** He told her. **"...I know what they look like, and I know that you aren't such a thing"**

Widow was moved by the story. By Reaper's story.

 **"I'm so sorry..."** She apologised.

 **"It's too late for me. But it's not too late for you. See your family, before you have no family left"**

She was certainly moved. She swallowed and nodded. He then sat back, away from her.

 **"Good"**

The rest of the wine was then finished in the next hour, with little in the way of words exchanged. Widow was too busy thinking about this new development regarding her family...and Reaper's story. They were so much alike, more than she realised.

Reaper just let her absorb said developments.

Widow poured the last of the bottle into their glasses, just enough left for an approximate refill.

 **"Thank you for coming"** She whispered. **"It...it gets lonely here. Thank you for everything you've done for me"**

A castle occupied by a single woman. Well, a single woman and her pet spider...but that wasn't important right now.

 **"I failed you once"** Reaper told her. **"I'm just trying to atone"**

 **"Whatever you might've done before...you've more than atoned in my eyes"** She assured him.

 **"When you were taken from Gérard, it was Overwatch's responsibility to find you"** He said. **"I commanded Blackwatch, our special ops division. We specialised in disappearances, spies and terrorists organisations. And yet, we still failed you"**

He failed Amélie. If he had done his job better...Gérard might still be alive, and Widowmaker may have never came to exist.

 **"No...Gérard failed me. I love him and he was only one man...but he failed me"** She said sadly, swirling her drink. **"I was his responsibility. He was the reason I was taken. And now here I am"**

She raised her glass, as some kind of toast.

 **"You're a true friend, Gabriel..."** She said with a smile...but the smile soon faded, sadness replacing it. **"My only friend..."**

She sipped again and her lips quivered. Suppose the alcohol was getting to her.

 **"When people who were once my friends look at me...they see only a freak, or a traitor...or both..."** She began with a bitterness.

She thought back to her time in the labs.

 **"I certainly felt like a freak. In those cells...with all those chemicals pumped into me, things wired into me...people studying me, testing me...hurting me..."**

People that killed her husband. The scenery of her neural reconditioning was a thing she'll never forget. A painting, burned into her brain.

 **"And here you are, a member of the Talon Council...the people who hurt me most of all. And yet...you care for me, more than all my supposed friends I thought I had throughout the years..."** She kept going, a slight anger in her tone, before swallowing it. **"You call yourself a monster, but to me...you're the most human person I know. You didn't hurt me...everyone else does, but not you"**

 **"Widow..."**

He wanted to ask about Sombra...but deemed it not suitable. She put the glass down and laid her arms over her thighs. She couldn't bring up eye contact for what she was about to ask.

 **"Do you love me?"** She asked gently. **"Truly love me...? I...I wouldn't mind if you didn't...you've still been better than all the rest, so I wouldn't care..."**

He shuffled in his seat, relatively uncomfortable. But in her eyes, he could see that she so dearly wanted to be loved again. Even if she herself couldn't feel it. So many years of being utterly alone would do that to her.

 **"You've been with many people in recent years...even if you did have to kill them all"** He told her. **"You've never felt loved once?"**

She looked up at him slowly, her yellow eyes staring into him.

 **"Only when I'm with you"**

Reaper closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn't sure if any words could be appropriate here. So instead of speaking words, they had shared enough for one night, he stood up and took her in his arms. One arm around her legs and the other around her back. Widow squeaked as she cutely sometimes did when she gets held, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He enjoyed squeezing her. She enjoyed being squeezed.

They didn't know which of the four bedrooms in the chateau they would be using. Suppose they would soon find out.

* * *

Reaper didn't need to sleep. There were a lot of bodily needs he didn't require anymore since becoming what he is. Food, water, sleep...it was all unimportant to him now. Sex however, that's always been a luxury. As Widow slept in his arms in bed, he just looked up at the ceiling.

 _"You're getting soft, Reyes"_ He told himself. _"Look at all you're doing for her"_

He helped her get this home, and he's helping her with family...Gérard once asked him if he could look after his wife if anything would happen to him. It seemed he was keeping his promise.

He shuffled slightly. Her body was so cold against his. Reaper moved his hand over her chest, and felt for her slow heartbeat. It was as slow as her breathing. If it weren't for those, you'd think she was a corpse.

It was a while into the night before she would wake up. She didn't even want to get up when she did, though. Widow felt so cozy.

 **"Do you always struggle to finish a woman off?"** She poked at him.

He glanced at her. And shook his head.

 **"Only when they feel like a refrigerated chicken"** He told her, removing his arms from her.

Widow sat up on the edge of her bed. She opened the drawer by their side and pulled out a few bottles of medication, of varying types. Reaper watched her swallow three different kinds of pills.

 **"That's a lot of drugs"** He said.

 **"I need a lot"** She told him. **"Cyanosis...is a serious condition"**

All this, and blue skin, in return for being able to shoot better. Was it worth it? Talon believed so...

 **"Could be worse. You could need to consume souls to live"** He joked. **"Instead, you just consume medicine. That's more convenient"**

Widow smiled. Reaper sat up with her.

 **"I wish we could always be like this"** She said, sitting on his lap and putting an arm around his shoulders.

Reaper was a member of the Talon Council. Widowmaker was a project of Talon...not even a person, just a weapon. Yet, he was the only one who saw her otherwise...perhaps Sombra too.

 **"So do I"** He agreed.

They kissed. Reaper stroked the side of her face and a few strands of her hair which fell down it with his finger.

 **"You don't care about what I am"** She said. **"And I don't care about what you are"**

She was so gorgeous. Her lips, her chin and nose...her structured back and shoulders...her small, soft breasts and her lovely legs and arms...her long, graceful hair...she was like a dream. She was the pure image of a perfect ballet dancer.

And she didn't belong with a terrorist organisation.

 **"On the Talon Council I can help you"** He told her, holding her shoulders. **"I could get them to see more in you, get them to make you a full agent...not their slave. You can be your own woman again...and if you want to leave and put everything behind you, you can leave"**

He looked into her eyes, meaning every word.

 **"I promise"** He whispered.

Widow appreciated his promises. She gave him a quick smile and kissed his cheek. But she knew things couldn't be like that.

 **"Don't worry...it won't be long before I'm free..."** She whispered. **"Talon will only need me for so long..."**

Reaper didn't want to hear that. She was one of their best agents.

 **"Nonsense, you're irreplaceable to them"** He complimented her. **"No one can shoot a sniper rifle like you can"**

She chuckled weakly.

 **"Amélie Lacroix wasn't a marksman of any kind...just a simple ballet dancer. If they could get her to shoot well ...they can make anyone. Anyone, for when cyanosis catches up with me, and I'm useless to them"**

Reaper didn't to believe it...but he did. She was right...all soldiers are expendable, he of all would know that. It was something Talon would do.

 **"All it takes is enough enhancements...and a bit of torture on the side"**

Reaper closed his eyes. He had to not let this happen. He wouldn't allow it to happen. But he couldn't do anything sitting here.

 **"I'll have to get going soon"** He told her. **"So will you. Make sure you find some time for your family"**

Widow nodded. She promised she would get around to it, for him. She got off his lap and sat on the edge again. She began humming the same tune that Reaper heard when he first came to the Chateau.

 **"Mother used to sing it to me"** She said quietly. **"I...wanted to sing it to my own child"**

She finished the small tune.

 **"That was before I miscarried...before I realised I wasn't meant to be happy"**

She held her stomach. The trauma of being kidnapped, and tortured...it was too much for a mother. Her baby had no chance.

 **"I'm only thirty-three, Gabriel"** She reminded him. **"I'm still blessed with youth, and beauty. What have I been able to do with these gifts?"**

Serving as a gunman for terrorists. She'll never marry again, or have children, or even be a ballet dancer once more...she'd probably never feel true love again. All she could do, is remember what it felt like.

 **"The world is never fair"** He sighed. **"Best we can do is...try to make it that bit fairer"**

 **"You're right"** She nodded. **"For however long I have left in this world"**

She didn't believe they would be happy times. Just...more of the same, as the last six years have been.

 **"You can start with seeing your family again"** Reaper told her. **"But Talon cannot know. I've had to be discreet, thankfully Sombra is on your side"**

 **"Do you think...they'll accept me?"** She wondered.

 **"No one said you have to be having dinner with them every night"** He said, standing up and shrouding himself to redress. **"Perhaps just during the seasonal holidays?"**

He gave her a smile and left the room. Widowmaker stood up and looked at her naked self in the mirror. Is this recognisable to anybody she once knew? Would even a mother's eyes recognise her? Or a father's?

There was only one way to find out.

When she got dressed into her jumpsuit and boots, she met Reaper outside. The sun was just beginning to rise over the town of Annecy, the water was orange and yellow, and the goats in the distant mountains were starting to wake up.

 **"You truly do live in a beautiful place"** He admired. **"Perhaps I'll take a vacation here if Talon will let me?"**

If Doomfist took much of the burden for him. Once they got that big lug out of jail.

 **"I would certainly love to show you around"** She agreed.

She gave him a peck on the cheek, and a hug to go with it.

 **"You make me feel alive, Gabriel"** She whispered in his ear. **"There are few things in the world now that can do that. Take care"**

Widow let go of him. He nodded to her, and then he turned into a black mist, carrying itself over the lake. She watched the lake and the town for a bit before heading back inside. She made herself breakfast and some tea, then sat down in the dining table with her newspaper in hand. She looked around the room...this place really was too big for just her alone.

When she was done, she approached the large windows and looked at the black widow spider on its web. She raised her finger to it, and let it climb on her hand. She admired it, before sticking a fly from a jar in its web for dinner, and then letting it enjoy it's feast.

She was starting this day with high spirits, a rare feeling for her. Perhaps if Sombra came to visit, she should prepare by dressing in a bikini...it was the right season for it. She knew Sombra liked her shape, and she was feeling generous.

But she had her priorities straight. She went to the study room and sat down at her table with her laptop. She checked her message, and she had one new assignment marked from today. So recently. She thought she had been granted some time to settle in first...but oh well. A smile still plastered on her face, she looked through the assignment. She was surprised at the convenient location...it was in Annecy. But this place was so insignificant...what could the target have been?

But when she continued to read, she stopped smiling. Her lips tightened and she stiffened in her seat.

* * *

Reaper was sat in his dropship, on his way back from France. He was feeling good about himself, about Widow. While the two would never be able to officially become romantically involved, he liked to think he brought some life into her world. Which was a change of pace, because he often only served death to others.

He was dropped off in Dorado and made way to the Castillo Fort...a hive for gangs and other shady activities...the sort of environment his companion enjoyed. He had some business to attend to with Sombra, but the hacker didn't seem thrilled to want to talk to him. She wasn't like her usual self.

 **"Sombra"** He greeted as he entered her small den. **"I've travelled a long way, this better be worth it"**

Sombra was sat at her desk. She turned around in her seat and stood up, looking at Reaper and struggling for words.

 **"Gabe..."** She started, shaking her head. **"I'm so sorry..."**

Behind his mask, he raised an eyebrow.

 **"Sombra...?"**

She wandered around, gesturing with her arms and attempting to word her troubles.

 **"It's about Widow"** She told him. **"Talon...they were onto you"**

 **"Onto me?"**

 **"All the stuff you had me research...they know about it"** She went on. **"They...they made me..."**

Reaper suddenly shaped up the situation. If this is what he thought it was...

 **"Sombra, what did you tell them?"** He asked her very clearly.

She was hesitant.

 **"WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM!?"** He yelled, flipping over the table he was stood next to and getting right into her face. **"I am of the Talon Council, and I'm ordering you to tell me!"**

Sombra took a deep breath and looked up at him. Before opening her mouth to confess.

 **"Gabe...they knew..."**

* * *

Widowmaker was dressed in summer attire. A bikini with a sarong and shades, and a thick hairstyle. The new look complimented her in this weather, and she blended in a little more with the people. Thankfully, people and omnics also knew not to question the blue skin. She was carrying a case as she walked through her home town of Annecy...she remembered all the routes, and could navigate the area like a pro. Wave after wave of nostalgia was hitting her.

But this was no happy moment.

Widow reached one of the houses in particular. She just...stood in front of it for god knows how long. Knocking on the door was about the hardest thing she ever did. She hoped...begged that someone wouldn't open the door.

But someone did. And fact to face with her, was a young woman who looked very much like her. Widow hoped that she wouldn't be recognised under the shades and with the blue skin and the tattoos...but...

 **"Amélie...?"** She said her name. **"A...Amélie...!? What happened to you...?"**

It appeared her little sister was left in the dark about this. This was all coming as a shock to her.

 **"Hello...Danielle"** Widow said back, forcing a smile.

Her sister was giddy, she almost exploded into tears on the spot. Widow wanted to too. She turned around to yell into the house. As she did, Widowmaker looked at her case with a great difficulty.

 **"Mère! Père!"** She called into the house. **"Amélie is here! She's here!"**

Danielle turned around again to face her sister. Her excitement was suddenly cut short when she saw her sister with the dropped case at her feet, and a rifle in her hands. Soon, she was looking down the barrel of the weapon. Amélie's pained face behind it.

 **"I'm sorry"** She whispered.

The sounds of gunfire and screams filled the streets.


	10. Financial Methods

**Authors note- This chapter contains graphic sexual references. If you can't handle that, don't read. I won't take responsibility for people getting offended by these rare chapters by me.**

* * *

 **"And we're running the show!"**

The camera turned on to begin recording.

 **"Tell us your name, honey"** The Director asked politely.

The camera recorded a Latina who was sat down on her bed, in her den. A camera crew with one director were stood before her. They were all Los Muertos, invited here by the hacker. However none of them were figures she recognised from her days when she ran with this gang.

 **"I have many names..."** She replied, looking at her nails. **"I think Olivia will do for today..."**

 **"It's alright...don't drift from the camera"** The director told her. **"Let's see those beautiful eyes"**

Sombra looked up at the probe that hovered a little distance from her, she looked straight into the lens that was integrated into it. She fluttered them.

 **"Lovely purple eyes, aren't cybernetics cool?"** He said. **"How much of you is metal, I wonder? Are we gonna like what we see under that coat?"**

Sombra looked down at herself, brushing her hand on the smooth surface of her coat. Gabriel had made her about another three of these, she always dressed like this. Just like Widow was always in that jumpsuit. It was her...trademark outfit.

 **"I think you'll be pleased"** She assured them. **"I'm...fully compatible"**

 **"Hehe, I guess we'll find out soon"** He chuckled. **"And who is that? Will he be joining in?"**

He gestured at the teddy bear that was on her bed. Sombra smiled and picked him up, she made him give a little wave. She probably looked pretty cute as she did that.

 **"Oh, he's just a spectator"** She said. **"Aren't you, little guy?"**

 **"Well, we best get started then"** The director decided. **"Can you lose the coat? We need to know what we're dealing with, develop appropriate countermeasures if you know what I mean"**

Sombra placed her teddy to one side and stood up. She opened up her coat and then let it fall from her shoulders and arms on the floor. Underneath, she was wearing a black tank top.

 **"Wow, just from that I'm already beginning to make out your curves"** He said, inspecting her like an intellectual. **"Can I get some more incentive?"**

Sombra obliged him by turning around and placing a hand on her hip, and then turning her neck to look at him with a smile. More curves were certainly to be found, here.

 **"Gosh, that's an ass just waiting to escape"** He admired, the camera zooming in on her. **"How many squats did you do to earn that?"**

 **"It's just the way it is"** She informed him with a giggle. **"Excuse me, it's getting a bit warm in here"**

She was confident, they liked that. Sombra took hold of her top and pulled it over her head. The crew could see the metal spine that ran down her lower neck to her back.

 **"Woah, that's interesting"** He said, surprised. **"What is it?"**

Funny they asked, it was actually from the Los Muertos that Sombra originally got this cybernetic illegally. However it has been changed and improved by Talon since then.

 **"It's a...spine-corrector"** She lied.

It was actually a very advanced hub that connected her very being to the world's Holonet, but that wasn't information she could readily share.

 **"Can we touch it?"**

 **"Sure"**

The director nodded to one of the men, who stood up and knelt down behind her. He gently ran his finger across the metal spine. As he did so, however, he also made sure to undo the strap of her bra and let it fall from her. Sombra didn't even react, she just accepted it. There was no way they were genuinely interested in her cybernetics, only the organic parts.

 **"Let's turn around here, baby"** He whispered as he made her face the crew. **"Hm, those are some nice tits"**

Sombra ran her hands up from her hips and then to her breasts, giving them a squeeze. They were sizeable, and supple. The camera zoomed in close to them. Her nipples were soft, not currently aroused. The man inspecting her looked to change that by bringing his mouth close to a breast, and sucking on it. Sombra feinted a gasp and looked down at him as he worked on her.

 **"Well, he just went right in there, didn't he?"** The director asked with a few laughs.

The act was arousing to Sombra, feeling a tongue licking each nipple and sucking on them individually. When he was done, her nipples were erect and hard.

 **"That's better"** He said, taking a step back from her.

 **"Now that you're clearly in the mood, let's lose those pants"** The director instructed her.

Sombra nodded. She turned around and looked to tease them by slowly removing the article of clothing. She slipped her fingers under the waistline and began to lower them down. More of her naked butt was revealed inch by inch as she lowered them. It was tight however, and when she reached a certain point, her butt "popped" out from her clothes. She had her fun, and let the tights fall down her legs and removed them from her feet.

She was now stood in all her naked glory, an arm over her breasts and another over her womanhood. She felt so...sexy. She bet each of these men wanted to ravage her right now. Soon they would.

 **"Look at you, a true example of beauty"** The director admired. **"Just waiting to be eaten up"**

Sombra looked at them with a shrug, and then did a beckoning motion with her finger.

* * *

Sombra was on her knees as she undid the button and fly of one of the men who approached her. Having just given a little show to all of them just before, he already had a little tent forming. When his pants fell down, a limp but hardening dick revealed itself. This was the moment she was supposed to act shocked on how big he was, but that's just cringeworthy.

"Happy to see me?" She asked as she licked on his length.

The camera zoomed in on her face as she gave oral, rubbing her tongue on the length as it increased in size. Soon it had reached a full eight inches, some foreskin covered the head but Sombra just stuck her tongue in those "flaps", making the man shiver.

 **"Oh, that's a sensitive spot!"** He grunted.

 **"Do you like having dicks in your mouth, Olivia?"** The director asked her.

She nodded with her mouth full. When her eyeballs trailed to the right, she saw another penis looking at her. It wanted some love too. Soon, Sombra found herself licking two cocks, as if they were Popsicles. Each penis took a turn for treatment, then she licked them both at once, sucked them both at once, then just slapped them both on her tongue. She looked up to the camera, her bright eyes were more captivating than the actual succ.

After deepthroating them both at once, or trying to, she retreated from them with a gasp.

 **"Ahhhaa!"** She could only say, ropes of saliva connecting her mouth to their penises, which leaked with cum.

When the oral spotlight was over, Sombra stood up and wiped her mouth. The cameras followed her as she leaned over her table. A man approached from behind (men being behind her was going to be a common theme, here) and handled her ass by playing with her cheeks. Sombra had quite a big butt, with round mounds that were just too irresistible to not fondle.

 **"Give the camera a show, honey"** They asked her.

A camera was positioned behind her, and Sombra began to motion herself to it. The footage being recorded could see her asscheeks bouncing and prying, a glimpse of her butthole at each turn. When it was time for some real action, one of the workers stepped up and grabbed her hips.

 **"Ready, little lady?"** They asked.

 **"Mm!"** She hummed approvingly.

A hard cock began to press against her womanhood, and would swiftly slip in with the handy lubrication produced from her arousal. Sombra moaned out aloud to the feeling inside her, her innards being pushed aside to make room for this solid mass that was being shoved in and out of her. Her butt was being slapped against, making a fine cushion for his hips as he thrusted into her.

 **"You like that, chicka?"** Her partner said, grunting.

She could only yell out with glee in response. With each thrust, she'd move a little forward and her supple breasts would move like a hanging chandelier. Wasn't long before she felt a single hand move from her hip and touch a boob instead, feeling it and squeezing it.

The room was just filled with the sounds of slaps, moans and grunts.

 **"Ah! Ahh! Ahhh!"** She screamed. **"God, I can't even!"**

She could feel herself getting nearer to orgasm, but as if he somehow felt it himself, he pulled out swiftly and let go of her. The camera recorded Sombra struggling to balance herself as her leaking vagina closed in on itself. When she realised what happened, she wasn't happy.

 **"Ah, no! Put it back in!"** She whined.

 **"It's alright, chicka"** A man assured her, holding her sides and making her drop to the floor.

Sombra was now sitting on top of a man, his own dick hardened and ready for action. Wasn't the same guy who just u fucked her, but it didn't matter to her right now. She needed something inside her or she was going to die. Not literally.

Sombra took hold of him and rubbed his tip against her entrance. Like the previous man she had, he slid right in her.

 **"Ohhh fuck!"** She called out.

She rested her hands on the back of her head as her stomach was held. Thrusts were made deep inside her at a rapid pace. She was being driven to insanity on pleasure alone. But she was in for a real surpise, when she felt someone hold her shoulders and bend her down.

 **"You didn't think I was gonna watch on the sidelines forever, did you?"** She heard, from the director.

The director was crouched behind her now. His ten inch cock, bigger than the rest of them, was throbbing for some relief. As Sombra continued getting fucked vaginally, he rubbed his length against her butt as he poured a bottle of lube over her, wetting her ass and making it glisten. The lubrication let him make a meat-hotdog as she shoved his member up and down her crack.

 **"We can add the double penetration tag, can't we?"** He asked to one of the cameramen, who nodded.

Sombra felt the hard tip poke against her anus, pressuring to get inside the tight fit. It was going to happen though, she found herself taking more and more inches of penis inside as her body failed to resist the hard and lubricated point.

 **"Ah! Ffffuck!"**

Gripping her butt, he gave a good, hard shove and suddenly he was ten inches inside her. He left it there, feeling the hot "sock" that he placed his member inside. The pleasure was so immense that he could already feel pre-cum squirting inside her.

 **"AHHH!"** She screamed. **"Fucking FUCK! It's so big!"**

A loud sloppy sound was given as he retreated just to thrust back inside. And then he would repeat, many times. The camera focusses on Sombra's face, who didn't seem to really be "all that there". Her eyes rolled back, her tongue was stuck out, she was drooling all over the man she was lying over.

 **"Huh! Ugh! Muuuuh!"** She could only blurt out.

 **"Ugh, you're adjusting nicely..."** The director noticed, his thrusts picking up pace.

Slap! Slop! Slop! That was the sound that filled the room, complimented with the grunts of men and the screams of a woman. This could only continue for so long however, Sombra could feel two throbbing pulses inside of her. The Director got his legs on each side of her and held her shoulders, continuing to fuck her like he was a dog.

 **"Ah! Please make me your cum dumpster!"** She wailed. **"I wanna feel it!"**

A few chuckles were gained from that. She lost all control, and any amount of self-respect she had. They had seen this a fair number of times from other stars.

 **"Ah, I can't!"** She continued yelling. **"I can't...take it anymore..."**

But she didn't have to wait long, because she felt the throbbing reach an maximum pace as both men have a final thrust. Soon, she then felt her insides becoming filled, and warm. When they pulled out, fluids began to leak out of her. The men moved away from her as the camera got close shot of her holes. The northern-most hole was gaped, revealing her pink insides, and slowly caved in on itself.

Panting, Sombra rested against the floor with her butt still stuck up. She looked back at them, her face unsatisfied. She had lasted longer than any of them.

 **"Ah...is it over...?"** She wondered. **"I haven't came yet!"**

 **"Nope"**

One of the men who hadn't orgasmed yet had penetrated her in the ass, thrusting his cock deep inside and slapping against her just as the others had done prior. He was less impressive in size than The Director however and she had already been stretched, so instead of screaming out? She was just quietly moaning. She was soon filled with more cum.

But it STILL didn't stop. There was still another three men who hadn't had their turn, so they each had a go of anally fucking her. A cock would go inside, thrust for a minute or so, shoot it's load, then pull out just for another to swiftly replace it and the process would start over. Sombra hadn't the strength to take up another position, she just let it happen, a river of saliva forming from her face.

And when all THAT was finally done, she was left in a small pool of fluid. Some of it was hers, most of it wasn't. Her insides felt bloated. Her butt had many red marks which indicated all the smacks she recieved, like she was a bad child who had been punished by her daddy.

Sombra was stiff. She was so close to her climax...like any other movement would...

Someone flicked her throbbing pussy, and Sombra yelled out in orgasm as she squirted her own load and then collapsed on the floor. She could feel all the...sticky stuff that she was practically bathed in. This is what happens when one woman is shared between many men, she has to take a lot of steam. Sombra was surprised she outlasted all of them, however. Seemed she had a high tolerance to pleasure...

 **"God I'm so full!"** She exclaimed. **"I'll never go to the bathroom the same way again!"**

Someone knelt down and brought her rear up, they used their fingers to open up her butthole, and a thick, white substance would ooze out. They made sure to get a good shot of that, and drain her out for measurements sake. They would probably be able to fill a small cup or so of cum...and that doesn't even include all the stuff that spilled on the floor.

Five people came inside her, after all.

 **"Okay...now we're done"** The Director said. **"We had a few freakier ideas such as making you drink what was pumped into you, but since this was your first time? We'll just leave it at that"**

Sombra groaned.

 **"Never doing that again..."** She muttered, face into the floor.

 **"Let's give it up for the chicka, everyone"** The Director said, clapping. **"She did very well, didn't she?"**

Everyone agreed and a little applause was given for her, and Sombra gave out a muffled chuckle.

 _"I'm so fucked"_ She thought.

* * *

Reaper was sat down at a table in kitchen, calculating costs with a calculator and about five different sheets of paper. He was constantly grumbling, in a bad mood. Then again, when was he ever in a good mood?

As he worked, Sombra entered and began ransacking the fridge.

 **"Oh no, we're out of tequila? I need to buy more"** She told herself aloud, closing the door. **"Is the toaster still working? I need to get another one** "

 **"You'll buy nothing we don't absolutely need"** Reaper commanded her. **"We're barely able to pay to stay here"**

While Sombra made herself toast, Reaper cursed Doomfist under his breath. Deciding to become a member of Talon and not just a mercenary was a mistake. At least working as a mercenary meant Talon had to pay him for his services, not whenever Reaper brought up money, Doomfist kept telling him "we don't do this for profit".

Fine, he had a "noble goal" in mind. It still was an issue that Reaper could hardly afford basic human needs, of both himself and Sombra who lived with him. Thinking of her gave him an easy target to blame.

 **"Bah! Sombra, you're the one who costs the most to stay here!"** He yelled at her.

 **"Well duh, I'm a lady. Ladies need things to maintain their sanity"** She informed him.

 **"If Widow lived here in your place..."** He argued. **"I wouldn't be having any issues"**

 **"Of course you wouldn't"** She muttered quietly. **"She sucks your dick"**

Literally.

 **"WHAT!?"** He yelled.

 **"Nothing"** She squeaked.

Sombra needed food and drink, she needed makeup and other woman products, she needed medicines so that her cybernetics aren't rejected by her immune system, and she needed wifi as well as phone signal. Reaper needed none of these things.

 **"If you didn't live here, it would be so much cheaper..."** He mumbled. **"If you don't start paying substantial board...then you'll have to go back to living in that small den in Dorado"**

He spitefully then went back to calculating and grumbling some more. Sombra was the best hacker he knew, and invaluable in many operations, but he couldn't allow her to bankrupt him.

Sombra walked around the table with some poorly-made toast in hand, crunching as she ate. She had a look at one of the papers he was looking at to check if he wasn't exaggerating (he wasn't) and then looked at him with a frown. A thud was heard on the table, and Reaper looked up to see a rather large sum of credits in front of him. He then glared at Sombra, who just casually kept eating.

 **"What's this?"** He asked.

 **"Enough board to last till Christmas"** She told him. **"Don't ask me how I-"**

 **"How did you get this money?"** He interrupted.

She swallowed. And then quickly came up with a lie.

 **"Widowmaker gave it to me"** She said to him, confidently. **"Caught her on a good day"**

Reaper was suspicious, however. Widowmaker never had good days, unless he was the one spending time with her.

 **"Widowmaker doesn't get paid"** He informed her. **"How would she have money to give you?"**

 **"Gabe, my man, Widow lives in that huge-ass castle in the Annecy. If that's not a dead giveaway of how rich she is, then-"**

 **"Widowmaker didn't buy that chateau, she inherited it under her family name"** He continued to drop facts like a rapper dropped beats. **"So can you please suggest how you could have been given money that Widow shouldn't have in the first place?"**

She shrugged. It was all she could do. Reaper sighed and took the credits, regardless of where it came from...it was better than Sombra giving him nothing.

 **"Hope our financial situation improve before Christmas, then"** He said, counting the credits. **"But for now, we should be fine"**

Sombra looked at him sadly. Here he was, doing all the work for her in maintaining this place...and up until now she didn't have the decency to give him a dime. But she didn't have much more to give him, and Talon wasn't paying her any more than he was getting...and he was on the Talon Council! Like him, she was inducted into the organisation. You got given what you needed, but very little disposable income...

 _"No more mercenary work...that was the rule..."_ She thought. _"People used to pay me so much for government files..."_

Sombra thought about the true origin to the money she gave Reaper. She sighed and reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a card with a number on it.

Perhaps she'd have to give it a call, someday...


End file.
